


A Fairytale for the Owl Lady

by cato_universe



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Camila and Luz have issues, Death as a character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Healing, Mentor Eda, Not Character Death, Romance, Wing Grooming, but they fix them, eda needs a hug, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cato_universe/pseuds/cato_universe
Summary: When Eda makes the deal with Luz, she doesn’t really expect anything to come out of it. After all, she can feel the curse closing in around her, can feel the tendrils of magic curling around her heart a little more each day.In truth, she does the deal on a whim— because the kid amuses her, and if there’s something she needs in her last days, it’s amusement.She doesn’t expect to come to love her. And she most definitely doesn’t expect to feel whatever it is she feels for Camila Noceda.
Relationships: Camila Noceda & Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne & King & Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne & Lilith Clawthorne, Eda Clawthorne/Camila Noceda
Comments: 29
Kudos: 111





	1. Prologue: The Tale of the Owl Lady

**Author's Note:**

> huh...hi again?
> 
> I don't know what to say this time, other than here we go again I guess XD 
> 
> anyway, this is a story I've wanted to tell for a long time, so thanks for being here! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I do writing!

Once upon a time, in one of the worlds in which magic exists, there was a kingdom ravaged by war. For centuries, it had been ruled by a wicked, prideful King. Cruel, the King was, and he ruled the land with an iron fist. Under his rule, magic dwindled, the earth became bare, his people went hungry.

However, one day, the royal councilor, unable to watch his people’s suffering any longer, rose in arms to overthrow the evil King. Long and harsh the battle was, for the King’s winged guards were both powerful, bound by strong magic to defend him. But the councilor, who had prepared himself for the battle, prevailed at last.

The King, although defeated, didn’t surrender. It was the Owl guard that took him away, an act of betrayal. And so, although the King lost his crown, he vanished, threatening to come back one day to take what he considered to be his birthright.

As reward for his efforts, the councilor was crowned, and naturally, as tradition dictated, he summoned both the royal guards to return and serve him, to fulfill the oath their family had made to the one on the throne since the beginning of time.

Only the Raven guard complied. The Owl Lady, treacherous and faithless, refused to fulfill her duties to the new king. However, the Old Magic that bound the guards to serve the rightful ruler, rose up from deep within the Owl guard. Sensing her betrayal, it turned against her. It transformed her into a beast, a monster to better reflect the aspect of one who had refused to fulfill her sacred oaths.

Legend says she wanders the world still, maddened and vicious, and none should cross her path, for fear she will turn against them as she turned against the brave councilor.

This is the story that’s told all through the Boiling Isles.

The story that people call _The Tale of the Owl Lady_.


	2. The Winter Rose

Out of all the stories Luz had so painstakingly collected since she was eight, her favorite had always been the one about the Winter Rose.

It had always appealed to her: the garden that was half eternal winter and half eternal summer, and the magical golden rose that granted a wish to the youngest son of the poor shoemaker.

Sure, there was a beast in that story too, the monster that stood between the brave boy and the power to restore his father to health. But Luz had never been afraid of monsters — they were not _real_ , not like magic was, even if everyone seemed determined to tell Luz she was a fool for believing in it.

Magic was not real in the Boiling Isles. It was all a belief of the past, the fabric of old tales, fantasy, and anyway progress could only be achieved through technology, not through something as flimsy as _magic_.

(That’s what Luz’s teachers said at least-- that magic was nothing like Death’s miracles _ at all _ , it was just not the same-- not that Luz believed them.)

However, Luz had a secret.

Well, it was not really a secret, of course, since no one had believed her when she’d told it, and it had been long since she had last tried to convince anyone of it. Instead, she had learnt to keep her mouth shut, barely waiting to be out of sight to start writing, to add another story to her painstakingly made Book of Fairytales.

For all that, it was not the book that was the secret. Well, it _was_ secret, in that Luz had never shown it to anyone, not even her mom. But not really secret _secret_.

The truth was that once, when she’d been little, Luz had seen a witch.

So her book, more than the work of her life --which it WAS, thank you very much-- was _research_ , because if there was one thing Luz had been determined to do since she was eight, it was to find a way to become a witch too.

That was why, when she and her mom moved out of the capital into the small town in the middle of nowhere, and Luz heard the stories that people told about the abandoned castle, she knew enough to recognize the chance when it presented itself.

* * *

Luz’s preparations, for the first time in her life, were meticulous.

She was incredibly careful, planning, preparing, feigning naivete to obtain information. Even so, it took her almost three months to be fully ready, because she knew that, if she was right, she would only have one chance, and she didn’t know if she’d ever get another.

And still, as Luz carefully inspected the tall wall that surrounded the castle -- that surrounded the _garden_ \--, a very, very small part of herself wondered if this was a good idea after all.

Behind her, the forest was too quiet.

Luz had always been a city girl. Her mom’s job never had allowed them to go far from the city, so it wasn’t like she’d ever been in too much contact with nature. But even so she knew that the silence of the forest was not normal.

Normal, she thought, would be...insects. Branches rustling in the wind. Small animals stirring in their hidden burrows, ready to welcome morning. Instead, as if the stone wall was somehow absorbing all sounds, Luz could hear nothing but the beating of her own heart and the hollow roar of her blood as it rushed through her ears.

Too quiet.

Luz took a deep, muted breath.

To steel herself for what she had to do, she fingered the edges of her hand made purple cloak. She had felt courageous, a few minutes before, like the protagonist of one of her books, ready to have an adventure. However, now, with the stone wall towering above her, Luz felt something she hadn’t expected to feel under such circumstances.

Fear.

She was afraid.

For a moment, Luz struggled with herself, trying to break free of the spell that kept her in place. And it must have been a spell, because there was no other explanation for not feeling radiant joy at the confirmation that she’d been right. _Magic was real_. Because, rationally, such unnatural silence was neither normal nor natural, and if it wasn’t, the only explanation left was a spell.

And if it _was_ a spell, then…

“Come on, Luz, get yourself together,” she mumbled under her breath, trying to grasp the moment she’d been waiting for her whole life. _Magic was real_ , she repeated to herself. Still, she couldn’t help looking back --almost as if she’d been compelled-- back to the forest and the trail of colorful stones she’d left in her wake: almost all of the rock collection she had been assembling since she’d been three years old.

The stones that marked her way back home. To safety. Normalcy.

With great effort, Luz turned to face the wall once more. “You _are_ prepared for this!” she scolded herself. That she did not understand the fear didn’t make it less real, but she fought it head on, blow by blow, teeth set in stubborn determination.

_She was right._

Magic was real and she was right.

She must be.

It was a memory that gave her the strength to move. It was an old memory, so old and cherished that if it had been a photo it would’ve been faded and creased around the edges. It was Luz’s greatest treasure: a dark room, a tall, cloaked figure. And dozens of lights, balls of light the size of fireflies that came to life above the woman’s hand and floated towards the ceiling, as if creating constellations.

_Magic was real._

The stone was cold, almost freezing, under Luz’s hands. But it was uneven, and Luz had had to hide from other kids enough times through her life to know how to climb a wall. This one, in particular, was good for climbing, the old rocks offering plenty of footholds, and yet Luz’s limbs felt heavy, invisible hands trying to keep her from going to the other side.

“No!” she panted, climbing with every ounce of strength she had. “I will NOT give UP!” she repeated, stubbornly, over and over. “I want. To be. A WITCH!”

Luz didn’t know how long she fought against whatever kept trying to bring her down, but when she reached the top of the wall, the sky was already grey at the edges. For an endless moment, she sat there precariously balanced, free and victorious.

It was over.

Nothing was weighing her down anymore.

She had won.

“Woo!” she yelled into the silence, throwing her hands in the air. Joy finally --finally!-- hit her fully, making her so dizzy with glee that she swayed dangerously on top of the wall before tumbling down, on the other side, on top of a big bush.

“Ow ow ow,” Luz complained, curling into herself. It took her a moment to realize what the cold, white thing all around her was.

Snow.

In a hurry, Luz crawled out of the bush and looked around.

She was, indeed, in a garden. The plants were covered in snow as far as she could see — bushes garnished in white, grasses that looked like they were made of glass, a line of bare hedges in the distance. There were flowers too, white and purple buds that bloomed through the snow, dandelions with ice petals, pink blooms preserved in ice.

“The winter garden…” Luz whispered, in awe, because she could feel the cold ground burning her bare hands, and the damp cold of the snow seeping through her trousers.

She was in a winter garden, but, outside the wall, it was only the beginning of autumn.

She’d made it.

She was in the garden.

“Yes!” she yelled again, before thinking better of it. Immediately, Luz covered her mouth with her hands. “Calm down, Luz. Think!” Because if there was a spell in this place, and if she was in the garden that was half eternal winter and half eternal summer -- she had not yet seen the summer part, but she was confident-- it stood to reason that the part about the beast might be true as well.

Cautiously, Luz peered towards the castle, holding her breath for an endless, tense moment. It looked less like a ruin, this close, which Luz attributed to the spell that was hiding it. However, no matter how hard she looked, everything looked still, and when nothing happened, Luz sighed in relief.

First things first.

With fingers made clumsy by the cold, she opened the bag she had packed for her adventure. She was quick as she put on fingerless gloves, and she hung her cloak on a low branch to wear a thick sweater against the cold.

It was only once that she was warmly bundled that she started to look for the rose.

At first, she wandered aimlessly. The garden was big, but the snow lent it a kind of frail beauty Luz had never encountered before. She ached to stop and touch the flowers, find out if they really were made of ice or if it was an illusion, but she didn’t dare.

_It’s a test_ , Luz reminded herself, and put her hands on her pockets to avoid the temptation to touch anything she shouldn’t.

She was so tense and alert, that when she found the first statue, it startled her so much that she nearly jumped out of her skin.

In silence, Luz approached it, trying not to feel cowed by it. It was the statue of a person, a woman, perhaps, although her legs were those of a bird and her arms were wings that finished in long, sharp claws. Her expression was menacing, and the way she was posed imitated a bird of prey, ready to strike her prey.

Luz swallowed. She knew _that_ story too, but she hoped with all her heart that the statue was just some decoration, because the story the statue reminded her of had nothing to do with the Winter Rose, and it was much more scarier.

She walked away quickly, trying to make as little noise as possible. However, the deeper she went into the garden, the more statues she found: gargoyles, and griffins, and owls, all creatures with wings and fierce expressions. And, as she walked, Luz couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. There was always something in the corner of her eye, some sharp movement that she was never able to catch, the echo one extra step whenever she stopped to listen.

“Calm down, Luz,” she told herself again, trying to subdue her heart. Above her, the sky had shed its greys for the pale oranges that announced dawn, and Luz knew she needed to hurry.

She was almost surprised when she stumbled across the end of the winter garden. She turned around the corner made by a tall hedge, and there, on the other side of a gravel path, suddenly there was no winter. On one side, everything was white and ordered, and on the other, the garden felt like a jungle, full of life, growing wild and free.

Luz’s heart jumped in her chest.

This was it.

Trying not to look at the faces of the weathered stone statues around her --and ignoring the fact she thought she saw them shifting sometimes-- Luz followed the path, with the summer garden to her right, the winter garden at her left, and the stone wall far behind her. And surely, she soon was there: in the center of the garden, there was a rose bush. It was taller than Luz, beautiful and wild, full of huge roses that bloomed in all the colors of the rainbow and filled the air of the early morning with their sweet, intoxicating perfume.

And it was a wonder to behold, because, as full of life as it was, frost ran all through it, delicately decorating the petals with ice crystals that didn’t burn the flowers.

It was so beautiful that Luz couldn’t move at first. Out of nowhere, sorrow touched her heart, at the sight of the flowers, a cold sadness that matched the frost that covered the roses, and for a strange moment, Luz felt like she wanted to cry.

“Come on,” she whispered, getting her heart under control.

_This was it._

Whether the story about the Winter Rose was true or not -- whether the roses would grant her wish-- this was the end. She’d either get magic, or, if the story was a lie, she’d take the rose and nothing would happen. Either way, this was the end.

And still, she almost didn’t do it.

Once in front of the bush, she doubted. She loathed taking a rose from it, hated the thought of harming the plant.

However, it had been long since she’d made her choice. She had decided she’d be a witch while other kids mocked her, when she looked at her mom being praised and knew she must be unhappy with a good-for-nothing for a daughter. She had worked in silence when no one had believed her, and _this_ , this was proof she had been right.

She had worked hard, and she’d made it this far.

She would go until the end.

Face set in stubborn determination, Luz reached out and carefully cut a yellow rose with the scissors she had packed in her bag, holding her breath.

For several endless moments, nothing happened. But then the sun finally touched the horizon, a golden finger spilling its light through the sky, and the garden became alive.

Around Luz, the plants shook, and she fell backwards when one of the statues jumped down from its pedestal, walking towards her.

And then, before she could even yell, a tall winged figure towered over her, materializing out of nowhere.

“So you would dare steal from my garden, little thief?” the tall figure asked, grinning down at the girl with sharp fangs. “I guess you’ll find out what happens to those who try to steal from me.”

Luz cowered, shrinking into herself trying to become smaller.

_No_ , she thought, because she had known there was a beast, but this was not the right story, and she was scared and she wanted her mom.

And when the first ray of the sun hit the figure in front of her, finally revealing the monstrous features, Luz finally gave into fear and screamed.


	3. The Castle

When Camila knocked on Luz’s door that morning and the girl didn’t answer, at first she didn’t think anything about it.

On the contrary, she was about to knock again. She had, many times before, with different results. If Luz had stayed up late reading a book --which was the most common situation-- Camila would get muffled rumbling for an answer as Luz rolled around in bed, trying to get back to sleep. If they had argued, however, Camila’s only answer would be silence, cold indifference that let her know Luz’s displeasure.

This time, however, they had not argued. They had not argued, and even so, when Luz didn’t answer, Camila hesitated, uncertainty settling heavy in her stomach as her hand stopped inches away from the dark wood of Luz’s closed door.

She didn’t like it.

Not Luz’s silence-- she was a teenager, after all. What Camila didn’t like was the feeling that stirred in her heart at this small sign of conflict. It was a feeling that she had buried deep within her heart for the longest time, but had become especially strong since they had to hastily move out of the capital city of Bonesborough to a town in the middle of nowhere.

Camila didn’t want to acknowledge what it was. As of late, she felt unable to read Luz as she used to -- there was a distance between them that unsettled Camila, a rift she could not bridge -- and although she had told herself that it was probably just Luz growing up, Camila couldn’t help but feel that it was her fault.

It _was_ her fault.

She even knew when it had started.

And yet, she could not regret nipping Luz’s dangerous obsession with magic in the bud. It was okay for small children. Everyone in the Boiling Isles grew on fairy tales, but soon everyone outgrew them. After all, magic was not a natural thing.

It was dangerous.

Camila knew that first hand.

So Camila had tried to dismiss Luz’s interest in magic, and yet... she couldn’t remember the last time she had had an honest conversation with her daughter. A fleeting moment came to mind, but it disturbed Camila too: Luz’s blank face when Camila had told her they’d be moving out of Bonesborough, the way she shrugged with indifference and simply asked if she was allowed to bring all her books with her.

That reaction had not sat well with Camila, for she had been unable to dismiss the feeling that something was off. She had been very close to telling Luz everything then: the truth of why they were leaving, what Camila had done. But then, the moment had ended, and Camila had allowed it to pass, unaddressed, a part of her relieved Luz wasn’t asking more questions.

It had been a mistake too.

Camila _knew_ it had been, she could feel it every time Luz smiled at her and told her nothing personal. She was keenly aware of it every time she saw Luz pour hours and hours of hard work in that journal of hers, only to close it and pull it away whenever Camila got too close.

And it hurt, of course it did, and yet --the thought of finally being honest, of having to talk to Luz about...well, everything, made Camila so anxious that it was difficult to think rationally.

So, as she had been doing for a while now, instead of pressing on and knocking on Luz’s door, Camila retreated.

She was not proud of it, but as she walked down the stairs, she allowed herself the brief distraction of the house. Although they had been living in it for nearly three months, it was still unfamiliar. It was quaint, completely different from their more modern place in the capital, but although Camila wouldn’t have ever imagined living in such a place, now she found she liked it. The house was big, for once, with a sunroom that faced the back of the property. It was connected to her studio, on the other side of the house to her clinic, and it was the first time Camila had had a place to do her research in peace.

Her first stop was the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was bright and airy, with an old-fashioned metal stove tucked away into a small tiled alcove. Methodically, Camila made breakfast --mostly for Luz-- and covered it with a plate before she made herself a cup of tea and sat at the empty table.

Around her, the kitchen was silent. There was something uneasy in the air that morning, and Camila didn’t know what was worse: thinking it was caused by the silence and unfamiliarity of her surroundings, or by the ghost of the fear that had chased her away from Bonesborough.

In an attempt to ease her heart, she went to her study. She had always found comfort in her books, and, for a moment, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sight of them. Beautiful, dark wooden bookshelves covered the walls up to the ceiling. She had spent all her life tenaciously building up her library, and it figured it was only in this house, where she had never expected nor wanted to come, that she finally had the space to display it.

At first, Camila tried to distract herself by doing paperwork. She carefully reread a few of her new patient’s files, making notes here and there for what she needed. However, it was not enough of a distraction for her restless mind, and soon enough she found herself itching to work in her real research, to read her notes once more and make sure she had not missed anything.

Arguing with herself proved useless after a few seconds, so she took a moment to look around to make sure she was not being watched before she slid her hands under her desk, feeling the smooth wood until she found what she wanted.

Camila didn’t know if the mechanism was simple or complicated. It had been made for her by an elderly patient, a craftsman that had felt he owed her. A soft click announced the unlocking of a hidden mechanism, and only then was Camila able to pull down the piece of wood that hid a secret drawer. It was thin, and discreet, and it still needed a key to be opened, and Camila felt her heart beating faster in her chest as she unlocked it using a small key she had on a chain around her neck.

Although she knew she was alone --the first day she hadn’t had patients or anything work-related in _years_ \--, and her apprentice wouldn’t come until late afternoon, she felt a rush of adrenaline as she took out the last one of the three journals that contained her life’s research. This was the first time in half a year that she had dared to even think about the whereabouts of the journals, and it spoke of the skill of the craftsman that her desk had escaped the destruction her office in the hospital had been victim of.

Although she didn’t notice, Camila’s breathing picked up at the memory. It was clear and sharp like a shard of glass-- the unnatural blue eyes that seemed to stare right through her, the hidden implications, going back to her office only to find everything destroyed, and the terrible, devastating knowledge that he knew about Luz, _he knew_ , and if Camila didn’t obey she would be unable to protect her.

The sound of wings outside the window startled Camila out of the memory. Hurriedly, blinded by a second of panic, she tried to hide her journal again, but in her panic she bumped the cup of tea off her desk and sent it crashing to the floor.

For a moment, Camila just stood there, frozen, looking at the pieces of ceramic smashed on the floor as her heart tried to beat out of her chest.

Instead of going for a rag to clean it, however, she sat back down in her chair, took her glasses off, and hid her face into her hands.

“You’re safe. You’re _safe_. Pull yourself together,” she scolded herself. She had gotten away. She was safe. Luz was safe. At least, this time, she had been able to protect her.

Luz.

Camila sighed.

It wasn’t fair, but thinking of Luz made that ugly, bitter feeling well up again from where it had settled on her stomach. Except, this time, Camila didn’t fight or ignore it.

It was guilt.

Maybe because for the first time in a long time she had nowhere to hide --no work to do, no one else to take care of-- she allowed herself to feel it. In a moment of clarity, she saw her future clearly, a future in which Luz would grow up, move forward with her life, and always keep Camila at arms length.

Was it worth it, a life like that?

Camila sat there, alone with her inner turmoil, for a very long time. She did not cry. She felt herself at the border of a breakdown-- there were things she simply couldn’t burden Luz with. She _had_ to protect her. And yet...if those things, those secrets, created a rift between them, was it worth it to keep them?

No.

 _Yes_.

Camila didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know, but she also knew she hadn’t been fair to Luz.

Maybe it was time for them to talk. After all, Camila had plenty of things she felt she needed to apologize for.

It was with this thought that Camila, ignoring the broken tea cup on the floor for a moment but making sure to lock her research again, left her study. The kitchen was empty, and Luz’s breakfast was untouched, and she frowned as she took the stairs back up.

“Luz?” she asked, knocking one more time, and then again when she didn’t get an answer. “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

The silence on the other end of the door was absolute, and Camila tried to beat down the dread that the silence filled her with.

“Luz, please answer,” she said, voice sharp because she was practiced at hiding her fear. “If you don’t answer I’ll have to come in.”

Camila waited a good ten seconds before she pushed the door open. Luz’s bedroom was as it had been the day before, messy and with books and stuffed animals scattered everywhere.

Empty.

Camila closed her eyes, the panic so strong that it made her dizzy.

She had to stay calm.

 _You have to stay calm_ , she harshly repeated to herself. She had to keep a clear mind even if she was so afraid she felt sick with it. _Don’t jump to conclusions. You have no information. It might be nothing._

Camila was a doctor, a healer. Fear and helplessness were two of the things she daily fought against, and so she wrestled the emotions down that time too, locked them into a box made of ice she had made in her heart for the purpose. She was standing straight when she looked around, eyes sharp, mind reeling, and outwardly she looked calm and composed.

_Information first._

Luz’s desk was suspiciously clean and ordered, her bed unmade. Under the window, there was a round fluffy rainbow carpet, along with some cushions and a couple of her bigger stuffed animals.

Camila may not have been in the best of terms with Luz, but she knew her daughter, and she knew what to look for.

Not on the desk because that was too obvious for a child. Not under the bed, because Luz had stopped using that hiding spot since she was five and Camila had found her hidden stash of expired candy. Camila’s eyes stopped on the cushions on the floor, and with her heart on her throat, knelt on the carpet to squish them.

Camila found Luz’s hiding spot on her second try. It was hidden in an old yellow cushion shaped like a star. Camila tried to ignore the fact that it was the one she had gifted Luz for her third birthday, because that information was irrelevant at the moment and her mind was accepting important input only.

Under Camila’s hands, Luz’s book came free of the cushion easily.

In all fairness, Camila had never read it. She had known Luz was working on something --had been for a long time-- but after having fought over it a couple of times, it had been easier for Camila to ignore it.

She read it now, and her heart ran cold in her veins when she came across the page Luz had marked, along with a list of supplies for her “excursion”.

They had not found them.

But still it wasn’t good.

Camila was not one to curse, but she did it then, loudly and inventively.

And then, without losing another second, she turned around and left --to the castle.

* * *

Everyone in town knew about the ruins of the castle.

An ancestral family seat, although the bloodline’s name had long since been forgotten. Although she had kept it well hidden, it had been of some academic interest for Camila at first, even though she hadn’t yet had time to check it out.

As she stood in front of the iron gates, suspicious at finding them open, she knew she had absolutely no lingering interest in it and never would again.

It was, of course, because she didn’t have any doubt that Luz was in there somewhere. Camila had never before been alone in a forest, but it hadn’t really mattered. She only had had to follow the path of Luz’s rock collection. It had led her to a dead end, to the tall grey wall that surrounded the castle, and it had been a matter of simply walking around until she’d found the gates.

Open.

Uneasily, Camila assessed the landscape beyond the gates. Although the wilderness that was the gardens looked empty, some instinct, some untamed part of her mind, loudly screamed that it was a trap. Camila, who during her time as a healer had relied plenty of times on her instincts, knew better than to ignore them. And yet…

She could not hesitate. However, it was not the comforting weight of the sword at her waist, and old family heirloom, that gave her the courage. Instead, it was the smooth feel of the purple stone Camila had picked up mid-way to the castle. It fit nicely in the palm of her hand-- a small, mismatched thing, with its white and black bands. It was a favorite in Luz’s stone collection, and for a moment Camila just let it warm in her hand, trying not to get distracted by the irrational grief she felt at the fact that she hadn’t been able to pick up Luz’s rock collection to return it when they met again.

The gate made a high-pitched, chilling sound as Camila pushed it further open. The garden was still, and it looked abandoned. Grass had taken over the stone path that coiled towards the castle, vines and moss climbing over the grey statues that guarded it.

Cautiously, Camila walked towards her castle. Her hands felt clammy and she didn’t dare to call for Luz. Instead, she was watchful, although the way the old bird statues watched her seemed to be too life-like for her tastes, and they sent a shiver down her spine.

She almost wasn’t surprised when the ruins of the castle changed before her eyes. It was like a mirage: one moment the ruins were in front of her eyes and the other they shimmered, shedding their form and revealing the true form of the castle.

For a long moment, Camila just stood there, feeling so many things at once that she was frozen into place, mind reeling and heart trying to beat out of her chest.

 _Magic_.

Even later on, when she thought back to that moment, it would be difficult for Camila to describe what she felt as she first saw the castle appear in front of her eyes.

Fear, yes --for her child, for the hidden whispers that were being proven true once more, for the cold eyes that had threatened her. But there were other emotions in there that were far less appropriate -- a wild triumph, and intellectual curiosity, and the thrill of what this could mean for her research. Shame, too, for feeling these things she should not feel, so she masked everything under anger, because anger was good, anger was safe, anger allowed her not to panic and, in this circumstance, was productive.

When she finally got herself together she was breathing heavily, and, recognizing the incoming panic, focused on fixing that first. She controlled her breathing, and for something to focus on she opened her clammy palm to look at Luz’s purple stone. Anger and love finished tempering her mind, giving her the courage she didn’t feel she had.

Carefully, like the stone was a treasure, she placed it in her pocket before unseathing her sword. It had been a gift from her own mother, a long time ago, and although it had been longer still since she had last sparred with someone, she knew enough to defend herself.

 _A person_ , she reminded herself, thoughts disjointed. Whoever had cast the wards around this place was a person, and people could be fought against, magic or not.

The wooden doors opened easily under her hands, and although she tried to be quiet, her steps echoed in the closed space that was the entrance hall of the castle.

Camila took a second to look around, taken aback by the sight.

Contrary to what the outside of the castle had suggested, the entrance hall, although empty, was clean and clearly well maintained. Two tall, narrow windows above the door let white light pool in the centre of the room. Standing in the middle of the circle of light, Camila couldn’t but admire the room-- the intricate design of the maroon carpet that covered the elegant stairs, the golden details in the handrail and in the walls.

Awed, Camila followed with her eyes the intricate details in the walls up the ceiling, eyes widening in surprise. From the ceiling of the entrance hall, the figure of a one-eyed owl was staring at her. With its wings extended, it occupied most of the available space, beautiful and golden, and as she looked, some sort of recognition rang at the back of her mind, because the owl had horns and a crown, and she had seen that symbol somewhere before.

However, she didn’t have time to ponder over it. The way the windows let light into the room meant that Camila couldn’t see into the shadows between the pillars that supported the mezzanine upstairs, and so when she saw something move from out of the corner of her eye, she snapped out of her reverie, turning around to try and catch whatever it was that had moved.

Nothing.

Blinking, Camila tried to adjust her eyes, shielding them from the light above so she was not blind to the dark.

From behind her, something moved again, a big shadow that made it up to the mezzanine in one huge swoop. Camila felt the air shift, the noise of giant wings unmistakable.

She gritted her teeth against the fear, raising her sword and trying to command her hands enough to hide the shaking.

“I thought you would never come in,” a low voice commented from the shadows of the balcony above.

Camila could not see clearly, but the voice sounded female, and a pair of golden eyes looked down at her from the shadows.

“W-where,” Camila swallowed, and when she tried again her voice was hard and didn’t waver. “Where’s my daughter?” she demanded, completely aware of how stupid it was to be demanding things of what looked, for all intents and purposes, to be a monster.

Demons did not have wings.

However, the thing in the shadows chuckled, and the undercurrent of amusement helped Camila’s fear recede as anger was kindled in her chest once more, the spark soon a fire that burnt the fear away.

“You mean the kid that tried to steal one of my roses?” the voice drawled, and Camila gritted her teeth because, although she had read Luz’s notes, she still couldn’t believe she had actually been silly enough to go and try to steal a _flower_ , magical or not.

“Where is she?” Camila repeated, voice full of righteous anger, and the eyes above her sparkled.

“Mom!” Luz’s voice came from somewhere on Camila's left and the woman instinctively turned to it.

Luz was standing at the top of the regal staircase, grinning and looking like she hadn’t done anything wrong ever in her life. There was a small demon beside her, a small thing with a grey body and a skull-like head, but Camila didn’t mind him because Luz looked unharmed, and nothing was as important as that.

As if nothing was out of the ordinary, Luz ran down the stairs, taking two of them at a time, and Camila had barely time to lower the sword and catch Luz in her arms.

As she hugged Luz close to her chest, Camila felt her knees go weak with relief, and hadn’t there been a monster somewhere around them, watching them with intelligent, golden eyes, Camila would have cried.

As things were, however, she quickly pulled herself together. She had no time for emotion.

“Let’s go,” Camila said in a low voice, but apparently not low enough because the monster with the golden eyes flapped its wings and laughed.

“Huh…” Luz hesitated, looking apologetic. “I can explain? I kinda cannot go home.”

Camila’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean you cannot come home?”

“Well--”

“Your daughter is a thief, Mrs Noceda,” the monster interrupted. “Those who steal from my garden cannot go unpunished.”

“Also, she screamed when she saw Eda,” the demon added, helpfully. He had not moved from his spot at the top of the stairs, and instead he was looking down at Camila with open curiosity. “That was quite rude.”

Camila swallowed, the knot of panic that had eased in her stomach tightening again.

“Then what…?” she tried to ask, annoyed when the monster interrupted again.

“We made a deal,” the monster --Eda?-- explained. “She agreed to stay with me for a while.”

“It’s okay, mom,” Luz tried to explain. “Eda and King are okay.”

Camila ignored her.

“You cannot force a deal on a fourteen year old,” she informed the monster. Maybe it was the fear, or the situation, but Camila was feeling detached, almost like in a dream. “Contracts are not binding if made by a minor, for one.”

“Mom,” Luz complained and Camila pressed her lips together because she was so angry that she felt like she would yell if she so much as looked at Luz.

The monster snorted. “Well, maybe not a regular contract, but that kid made an everlasting oath with me,” a heartbeat passed, and then, as if the monster realized that its words would mean nothing to Camila, she corrected itself. “A magical contract.”

Camila looked sideways at Luz and the girl had the decency to look ashamed.

“I see,” she said, voice tight. “Then maybe we’ll have to renegotiate the terms.”

The monster grinned, a golden fang clearly visible even in the shadow, and that was how Camila and Luz found themselves on the receiving end of Eda Clawthorne’s hospitality.

* * *

It was only when the door closed behind them that Camila sighed. It came out more like a shuddering breath, almost a sob, and Camila suddenly felt sick, her feelings churning in her stomach and tangled together so closely that she could no longer tell apart anger from fear.

The demon --King, he had introduced himself as-- had rolled his eyes when the monster --Eda-- had ordered him to take them to their rooms. He had obeyed however, and had chattered happily as he guided them through long corridors to their rooms.

“Luz already knows the rules,” King had informed Camila, and had left them with a bow that had been nothing but mocking. “See you around!”

Beside her, Luz shifted her weight in the way she did when she knew she had screwed up but was afraid to bring it up in case Camila had missed it.

“Are you very angry?” Luz asked, voice low, and Camila wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her.

“You made a deal with a monster,” Camila started, and was amazed that her voice didn’t reflect the fury that she felt.

“Eda’s a witch!” Luz said, immediately brightening. “A _witch_ , mom. Magic is real! And I’ll get to be a witch too if I break Eda’s curse!”

Camila stared, too upset with Luz to speak.

Oblivious, Luz continued. “It’s really okay, you can go back to the town if you want. I’ll work very hard, and I’ll be a _witch_ ,” she stopped then, frowning, as if something had just occurred to her. “You don’t seem very surprised by the magic thing.”

“Of course I’m not surprised by the existence of magic!” Camila snapped, bending down to look at Luz in the eye, because that was the _least_ important part of what had just happened. “I cannot _believe_ what you did, young lady. I don’t think you realize how much danger you put yourself in.”

Luz of course, latched to the most unimportant part of Camila’s words. “Wait--you knew?” she asked, eyes wide.

“That’s not relevant to this conversation,” Camila continued. She was not yelling, but just barely. Now that the danger was not immediate, the anger was giving way to fear, so strong and devastating that she didn’t think she could deal with it. She had thought they’d been found. _She had thought they’d taken Luz because of her._

“You knew magic was real?” Luz asked again, and Camila wanted to shake her.

“Why is that the only thing you can think about?” she lashed out. “Do you have any idea what I felt when I went to your room and you weren’t there?”

Camila did not understand. She did not know why, but still it was a terrible thing to watch the play of feelings on Luz’s face: shock first, disbelief, and then --something that sliced through Camila’s heart like a knife-- hurt and betrayal.

“You _knew_ ,” Luz accused, pain shifting into anger Camila recognized as an echo of her own. “All this time you knew! You knew _, and you lied to me!_ ”

Rationally, Camila knew she had to keep calm. Keenly aware she was the adult, she tried not to say anything else, but the stress, the utmost _terror_ she had felt when she couldn’t find Luz, everything she had bottled up seemed to be spilling now that they were alone.

And maybe, had she been a better person, Camila would have hugged Luz and told the truth. She _wanted_ to, she had already _decided_ she would do so. She wanted to hold her child in her arms and told her-- explain to her magic was dangerous, that she had no choice, that Camila had only ever wanted to protect her.

However, in that moment she was angry, and scared beyond her mind, and frustrated by Luz’s stubbornness, and so what came out of her mouth was, “ _This is why I didn’t tell you!_ ”

Luz’s breath caught, eyes shiny, and because she knew her, Camila immediately recognized the not-sob.

Camila immediately deflated. “Luz…”

But Luz was having none of it. She was all tense, hands fisted, and had she been a cat, she would have been all puffed up.

“I get it,” Luz said, with a grimace. “I know I’m a disappointment. I know I’m not-- not like you-- not smart or respected or anything! I already knew you don’t trust me!” she yelled, eyes wild. “But I’ll do this by myself! I don’t need you! I’ll show you I _can_ be a witch! I’ll be the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles! And I’ll do it without you, so you can go-- to your patients and your research-- and do whatever you want! _I don’t need you!_ ”

And with that, Luz turned around and left the room through a door at the side, slamming it behind her. Camila had only time to take one step before hearing the bolt locking.

“Luz!” she called, but she understood the gravity of what she had just done, so she didn’t press further. “I’m sorry,” she offered through the door, although, in all truth, the apology was not completely sincere.

And perhaps Luz knew, because on the other side of the door there was only silence.

Defeated, Camila pressed her forehead against the wooden door. She thought of her empty clinic, and the greenhouse she was sure her assistant would take care of in the following days. She thought of her research locked in her desk, of their empty house -- of her life that was worthless without Luz, and although she felt utterly alone and ashamed and powerless, she didn’t cry.


	4. The Golden Rose / The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed one last update before the year is over! as always, thank you very much to all that follow this fic, and I hope you have a wonderful 2021!

The next morning, Camila woke up with a fever.

It was no wonder. After all, she hadn’t slept in a bed. After Luz had left, the room had felt too big for her, too empty, and the four poster bed, with its heavy curtains and countless pillows was almost mocking, mostly because Camila knew this was something her daughter would have enjoyed greatly, and maybe, in another circumstances, she would have gotten to enjoy it with her.

So she’d slept on the bench near the window, under the silver light of the new moon, with her forehead pressed against the cold window pane. Although outside her window the garden looked green and exuberant, the weather of the world was autumn after all, so when Camila woke up, feeling stiff and shivering, the fever was no surprise to her.

She ignored it.

Between her job and being a mother, it was not the first time she’d gone through a day feeling unwell, so when the demon —he’d said his name was King, hadn’t he?— knocked on her door to guide her to the dinning room for breakfast, Camila pushed the shivers and the weakness in her legs aside and followed.

The dining room turned out to be a room with a long table that could sit at least fourteen people. Like the rest of the castle, it looked well taken care of, if a bit dusty. A huge fireplace took over one wall, and had Camila been feeling well, she would have been more interested in the gorgeous red and gold tapestry that hung above it.

However, maybe it was because of the fever, but Camila didn’t care. She barely ate anything —certainly tasting nothing— and she only had the energy to be secretly glad that the witch was not there. Luz, on the other hand, was excitedly chatting with King, asking all sorts of questions about the witch’s curse —most of which King couldn’t or wouldn’t answer— and then about the castle itself.

She didn’t once turn to look at Camila.

And yes, it was certainly the fever. It must have been it, because when breakfast was over and King offered to show them around the gardens, and Luz turned to Camila and coldly said “Please don’t follow us,” Camila just…didn’t.

Everything felt like a nightmare, a fevered dream she would surely soon awaken from, and she was so tired that all she could do was go back to the room that had been given to her. Every step echoed on the empty hallways, and afterwards she wouldn’t know how she made it back. However, once there, ignoring the bed, she went to the window seat and, resting her warm forehead against the cool glass, sighed.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she did, and her sleep was not restful.

* * *

Camila dreamt.

She dreamt of a high pitched voice that came from the mirror, and of a low, worried voice, and a cool hand on her forehead.

She dreamt of her childhood home, of her grandfather reading her fairy tales before bed. She dreamt of the fairy tales themselves -- of the monsters, and the heroes, and love and betrayal.

Of wings.

Camila dreamt of wings-- of brown wings with white spots that turned golden, shining brightly as they rose into the sky.

She dreamt of the taste of feverfew and honey and something she recognized from her research, another plant she knew but couldn’t place. She knew she had written the name in her journals, but her journals were...they were…

She dreamt of her destroyed office, of a voice as cold as ice, of a threat. There was a shadow hunting her, and Camila was scared because she had only wanted to know, she had only ever wanted to help, her _research_ could help, but she had been stupid and naive and now they knew she had disobeyed, that she had defiled Death’s Miracles, and she had put Luz in danger, and why had it turned out like this?

“You’re fine,” the low voice told her. Camila didn’t recognize the voice, but it was kind, and instinctively she knew she could trust it. “You’re both safe here.”

Camila opened her eyes then, and there was a shadow by her bed, golden eyes watching over her, and Camila was not afraid because in her grandfather’s stories, golden eyes and wings had not belonged to a witch, but to a guardian.

*

When Camila woke up, things were very different than the day before.

For one, she woke up slowly, and she was so warm and comfortable, and more importantly, she felt so relaxed, that she dozed on and off for a while.

When she finally woke up, the sun was coming through the window, already high in the sky. For a moment, she was perplexed to find herself tucked in a huge bed, and as she left the warmth of the blankets, her unpleasant reality came crashing back into her.

She frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed to assess herself. She was still wearing the clothes she had come to the castle in, what? Two days ago?

By now, they were wrinkled, having been slept in, and for the first time since she had received the news of Luz’s deal with the witch was she able to think about practical things -- clothes, and washing up, and hopefully eating because she found she was quite hungry.

Surprisingly, the first few things on her list were easily resolved by just looking around, which Camila did for the first time.

Besides the bed and the window seat, the room had in it a fireplace, an empty desk, a round mirror above a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. All made of dark wood, beautifully crafted and engraved with what appeared to be roses. However, what was of interest of Camila at the moment was the pitcher resting on a wash stand.

A closer look revealed it was full of water, and when Camila poured out a bit, it looked and smelled fresh, so she washed her face and dried herself with one of the towels she found in the wardrobe. She longed to take a bath, but after a brief argument with herself, she decided to settle on changing into some of the clothes she found in the wardrobe as well-- a blue and white robe that, although old fashioned, was perfectly comfortable.

She wondered if Luz had clean clothes as well.

However, knocking on the door that connected their rooms elicited no answer, so after a few moments of hesitation Camila went to the other door in her room and, cautiously, opened it.

Outside, the hallway was empty. Camila listened for a few seconds, but the silence was deep, only broken by the constant ticking of a clock at the end of the hall announcing it was almost midday.

Camila didn’t remember the last time she had overslept.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she left the room as quietly as she could. Once more, she knocked on Luz’s door, and once again received no answer. She sighed, and looking around, decided to see if she could find a kitchen anywhere.

She had almost made it to the stairs at the other end of the hallway when a high voice coming from the wall made her jump out of her skin.

“Are you _lost_?” the voice asked, and Camila screamed, fumbling not to trip and fall backwards as she jumped away in surprise.

There, above a long wooden table, a creature was staring at her from a mirror. Or at least Camila was pretty sure it was a mirror, if only going by the way it reflected the wall in front of it.

Nervously, Camila peered sideways at the empty wall, just to check, but no. The creature was indeed _inside_ the mirror.

“Huh,” Camila answered, unintelligently, trying to get her bearings. The creature’s voice seemed strangely familiar, although she didn’t know where she might have heard it. “Are you a...demon?”

“I’m a _castle_ demon, hoot hoot!” he agreed, and tilted his head like a bird as he looked at Camila. Like an _owl_. “Eda made me!”

“Fascinating,” Camila whispered despite herself, staring because this _castle_ demon seemed to be sentient and to create a sentient being was-- not even _Death_ had--

“I’m Hooty!” Hooty announced, too loudly not to be awkward, and Camila felt her heart beat settle down as curiosity won over alarm.

“Do you live in the mirror?” she asked, daring to take a step forward, and then another and another, coming close enough to peer behind it.

Nothing. Just a wall.

“I do NOT!” Hooty answered, offended. “I live in the _castle_.”

“Castle demon,” Camila commented, and Hooty hummed in assent. “Are you part of it?”

“I protect the castle,” he informed her, apparently pleased by Camila’s interest. “I’m _strong_.”

Camila chuckled, breathless. “I don’t doubt it,” she said, mind reeling. Magic. If this was what magic could _do_ , the implications were huge. “I’m Camila, by the way.”

“I know!” Hooty chimed. “I was told you’d want _breakfast_.”

“I…” Camila blinked, snapping out of her academic induced stupor. “Yes. I...that’d be nice.”

“I’ll be your guide! FOLLOW ME!” Hooty bellowed, and vanished from the mirror.

Surprised, Camila quickly looked around before running a hand over the smooth surface of the mirror. She was almost smiling, fascinated despite herself.

“Follow me! FOLLOW ME!” Hooty screeched again, and Camila turned around to see his face animating the wooden figure carved into the banister at the top of the stairs.

As if in a dream, Camila followed Hooty around the castle. Apparently, he could manifest into mirrors --although not other reflective surfaces--, statues, and the bird decorations carved into the walls of the castle.

“When I’m outside, I can _run_!” he informed Camila, which was something she wanted to see, although it wasn’t as high in her priority list as finding Luz was.

The kitchen turned out to be smaller than Camila had expected. Unlike the rest of what she’d seen of the castle so far, it actually looked lived in, with all kinds of objects piled on the high shelf close to the ceiling that went all around the roof. With mild interest, Camila recognized cooking books and encyclopedias, glass flasks similar to those Camila herself had used for her experiments, what looked like bones of several kinds of creatures, and a huge sword-- among the more normal things like flour and sugar and what seemed to be bags of seeds.

She filed the information for later, and suppressed the curiosity that rose within her at the sight of the clusters of herbs hanging upside down near the window to dry.

“Your breakfast is on the _table_ ,” Hooty announced from a small round mirror between the door and the window, and Camila nodded in thanks.

“Where’s Luz?” she asked. She didn’t pay much attention to the food --which was pretty normal-- and ate quickly and without sitting down.

“In the gardens! She’s training with Eda!”

Camila tried to keep her expression neutral, although she pressed her lips together in displeasure.

“Training?” she prompted, because so far Hooty had been proved delighted to talk, and Camila needed as much information as she could get if she was going to get Luz away from this place as soon as possible.

And information she got. Sorting through Hooty’s self-centered chatter turned out to be a pain, but from him, Camila slowly learned that Eda was not only a _witch_ (which Camila had known, but still) but the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles, that the castle was under a protection spell in addition to Hooty himself, but that Eda and King could (and did) go out freely, although not openly.

However, one line of questioning that proved to be useless was asking Hooty about the curse. Either because he didn’t know or he was protecting his mistress, the only thing Camila found out was that Eda had been cursed sometime before she’d created Hooty.

“Thank you, Hooty,” she interrupted when her head felt too full to keep following his chatter. The information she had was good, and useful, but she needed to think about it some more if she wanted to make a plan that would get both her and Luz far away from the castle.

But first, of course, she had to actually talk to Luz.

Her request was met with the same boundless enthusiasm Hooty seemed to have in spades --an energy that left Camila exhausted almost by default-- and soon enough she was following Hooty’s instructions and leaving the castle through the kitchen.

Although Camila had crossed the garden to get to the castle and her rooms also had a view of them, going out still left her breathless. Despite being the beginning of autumn, the garden was green and exuberant, and as Camila walked through the overgrown bushes, she felt warm, as if she had suddenly walked into a greenhouse.

Everything had been so disorganized so far that Camila was surprised to walk into a small plot of land boxed in by a fence of hedges. Once upon a time, Camila was sure, the plants were supposed to grow neatly in square planters. This was not the case now. The plants were mixed, overgrown and without any sort of order, and yet, Camila blinked because unless she was wrong --and she wasn’t, for she was very familiar with plants-- these were aromatic herbs.

A bit perplexed, she knelt to finger a bush of thyme, the nice and familiar fragrance pleasantly clinging to her fingers.

As messy as the garden was, all of the plants were beautiful, healthy.

Camila didn’t understand why that surprised her so much.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on such small things because Hooty was screeching something again from beyond the hedge fence.

“Over here!” he kept on shrieking as Camila made her way to him. “OVER HERE!!!”

“Hooty, please don’t yell,” Camila scolded him, frowning, before she did a double take.

Hooty was...made of stone. Rather, it was like his body was made of stone, but his face was the exact same --round and owl-like-- that Camila had seen inside the castle. In this form, Hooty’s body was small and compact, with claws like a bird and the hind legs of a cat, and small, useless stone wings that opened and closed as Hooty jumped up and down, excitedly, leaving a mark on the ground where his heavy body repeatedly landed.

Honestly, he was terrifying to look at, so it took Camila a second to notice the empty plinth a few feet away from them.

“You...possessed a statue?” she asked, incredulous.

“Told you I could run!” Hooty answered, still jumping up and down in place like an overexcited dog. “But I can’t enter Eda’s herb garden,” he pouted. “I’m _forbidden_!”

Camila looked at the grass that had been reduced to a pulp under Hooty’s paws. “Yes, I can see why.”

Hooty, however, although obviously showing off, didn’t seem to like running around much. Instead, he jumped from statue to statue --they were all over the place-- and Camila didn’t know what was creepier. Still, she followed him through the huge gardens that surrounded the castle, tuning out his voice.

However, even worried as she was about Luz’s situation, the more she walked, the more her shoulders untensed. There was something relaxing in the greenery, in the clean smell of earth and growth, something surreal in it’s wild beauty, and Camila would have found it peaceful had she not been as stressed as she was.

Eventually --Camila didn’t know how long it took them-- they made it to another area that was fenced off, although this time by thorny bushes, and Hooty pouted from the statue closest to the big arch that served as the entrance to this part of the gardens.

“I must NOT enter the rose garden,” he explained, and his face vanished from the statue without a trace.

“Wait!” Camila called, turning around. Around her, the garden was silent, the only sound the rustle of leaves and branches occasionally moved by the wind.

Exhausted, Camila sighed, but decided to go forward. Even if Hooty had not guided her to Luz, the walk had served as exploration, and she knew she would find her daughter sooner or later.

Camila found it unbelievable, after the fact, that the rose garden had been the one to finally clue her in. In all fairness, it wasn’t that she hadn’t known the fairy tales. But with her life suddenly upended again, with the concern of Luz’s deal hanging like a sword over her head, and their issues, and all else, well...truth to be told the last thing she had been thinking about were those stories. And yet, as she walked through the green tunnel and into the rose garden, realization crashed down into her because it was like she was walking into one of the stories she had been told as a child.

There were roses everywhere. Pink, and white, and red, growing around fountains of still water. As Camila went deeper into the garden, she realized the hedges, and the water, were forming concentric circles. And with a gasp she stopped, right in the middle, because while the garden she’d been admiring had had the vitality of summer, in front of her --as if marked by an invisible line-- ice and snow covered the rose bushes, preserving the beauty of the blooms in ice that looked like crystal.

Unable to help herself, Camila placed a hand over the frozen plants, across the invisible boundary, mouth opening in shock when the cold bit into her naked skin with the viciousness of winter.

Her eyes were wide when she pulled her hand back, and, immediately, the sun warmed her skin again, as if the plants weren’t frozen barely a feet in front of her.

Camila felt dizzy.

She knew it was shock, but she felt powerless to do anything about it. As if under a spell she began to walk again, this time to the center of the circular rose garden. She felt in a trance as she followed the path that marked the boundary between winter and summer, both dreading and looking forward to finding what must be in the center of the garden.

And, indeed, in what obviously was the heart of the garden, where summer and winter met, a single huge rose bush was growing, so big it was almost a tree.

Camila knew this story. It was the one that had made Luz come to the castle in the first place.

The Winter Rose.

Except, Camila noticed when she came closer, the bush didn’t have a single rose. A handful of flowers were in bloom, in all the colors of the rainbow, big and beautiful, little cups of perfume that spilled their scent in the air.

Fascinated, Camila went closer, intent in examining the flowers. She felt a strange sadness when she noticed that winter had touched them, ice running up the main stem of the plant to freeze the rose that was at the very center of it, a beautiful golden rose.

Camila’s heart ached with pity.

The rose was covered in frost, although not completely encased by it, and Camila, who was a healer, couldn’t help but want to help it, warm it, because she felt that maybe she could melt the ice, if she was careful enough.

Her fingers had barely brushed one of the rose’s petals --the most gentle of caresses-- when the unequivocal sound of steps broke the peaceful stillness of the garden.

“It will not grant you a wish,” a voice said, and Camila snatched her hand back, whirling around, a scowl already in place.

And maybe it was because of the Winter Rose, because she had fairy tales in her mind, but Camila suddenly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, who the person in front of her was. She knew it with the same certainty all children in the Boiling Isles had, even if they forgot as adults.

The Owl Lady was just like in the old stories, the description of the curse spot on — the white hair, the sharp fangs, the bird feet, the huge wings.

That first time, hidden as she had been in the shadows of the main hall, Camila hadn’t been able to catch a clear glimpse of the Owl Lady. So that was surely why, she reasoned, she felt so breathless looking at her under the sun.

It was not about her golden eyes, or the feathers climbing up her arms. It was surely not because of the beautiful brown wings that were folded against her back, ruffling a little under Camila’s stare. It was…surprise. Yes. Surprise because if the fairy tale was right —and as things stood, there was no reason it wouldn’t be— she knew not only who the Owl Lady was, but what she had done.

Disgust churned in Camila’s gut, and she took a step back, unable to hide the intense dislike she felt for the person that had tricked her child on top of everything else.

“I won’t steal from you,” she spat, heart beating in her chest.

The Owl Lady froze in place, her face dropping the mask of friendliness Camila hadn’t noticed she’d been wearing until that moment.

“That’s not what I meant,” she answered, serious.

For an endless moment, they regarded each other in silence.

“Look--” Eda started at the same time Camila said, “Where--?”

They both stopped, the corners of Camila’s mouth going down in displeasure.

“I…” Eda tried once again, but Camila wasn’t having any of it.

“I know who you are,” Camila accused. “A traitor.”

Eda’s face remained impassive, but her wings trembled slightly before pressing against her back more tightly than before.

“Ah,” she snorted. “The Tale of the Owl Lady, right?” The smirk she directed at Camila was mocking, full of superiority, and Camila wanted to smack it out of her face.

Camila bit her tongue, aware of how ill advised it was to antagonize this woman, this _witch_ , that had Luz at her mercy.

After a long moment, Eda huffed.

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning around and leaving the way she came.

Even after she left, it took a long time for Camila to calm down. She paced, because inactivity suited her ill, and because she needed to clear her mind: it was not like she was a fan of the Emperor either.

Still, she scolded herself. She should have been able to fake politeness at least, she was used to that. Being on the wrong side of the Owl Lady would only be detrimental to her objectives. Maybe, Camila reasoned, being in her good graces would help her figure out the curse for Luz’s sake. It was the least ideal outcome, as far as she was concerned, but it might also help them escape.

By the time she was able to stop pacing, Camila had more or less a plan. It was not a good one, but at least made her feel that she had a purpose.

Made her less afraid.

But Luz. She had to talk to Luz.

As she left the garden, it didn’t occur to her to wonder why Eda had come into the rose garden in the first place.

* * *

That day, Camila didn’t find Luz until dinner. For some reason Camila was certain she could guess, Hooty spent the day guiding her all over the castle grounds. They would, indeed, find signs of people having been there, but never the people themselves.

By dinner time, Camila was exhausted, angry and frustrated, and her mood didn’t improve by the way Luz kept talking to Eda and King and refusing to direct even a look at Camila.

And, before going to bed, when Camila tried to take Luz apart to talk, her only answer was a door slammed in her face.

Upset, Camila sighed, and resigned herself to spend another night at the castle, and try everything again the next morning.

* * *

The next day, however, Camila didn’t fare any better. After breakfast, Luz vanished again together with the Owl Lady and King and didn’t appear until dinner, where she proceeded to ignore Camila.

So, on the third day, Camila was fed up enough that she stood at the door of the living room, hands on her hips.

“You’re not going to disappear today again,” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at Luz.

To their right, there was a small, choked sound, and when Camila turned to Eda, if she hadn’t known better she would have said the woman was hiding a smile in her cup of coffee.

But whatever it was that Camila had thought Luz was doing, it was incorrect. As it turned out, what Eda made Luz do was…tend to the garden.

“Watch carefully kiddo,” she would say when Luz grimaced and inevitably got distracted by the hard work. “There’s magic in the world. You only have to find it.”

Which was a bunch of nonsense, in Camila’s opinion, because she had been watching for years, and had never found anything.

_You found enough, didn’t you?_ a malicious voice in her mind reminded her. She would often try not to think about her clinic, or her own garden, or her hidden journals. She missed all of it keenly, and she worried what her apprentice would do without instruction, what would happen when they’d inevitably be reported missing. However, she tried to push those thoughts away as often as possible, mainly because she could not do anything about those things in her current situation and she had other more urgent things to worry about.

But after a week went by like this, Camila couldn’t help but feel—odd. Luz was still adamantly refusing to talk to her, but other than that…Camila didn’t have anything to do. For the first time in a very, very long time, there was nothing expected from her. For something to do, she was going through one of the books on aromatic herbs she’d found in the kitchen, but often she would just sit in the grass, or among the flowers, and see the clouds pass above her, surrounded by Luz’s voice asking question after question that the Owl Lady patiently answered.

So Camila slept. Years and years of exhaustion and restless nights, finally caught up on her, and, against all odds, like a spell had descended over her too, while the other three worked and played, Camila slept.

* * *

This, Eda thought as she watched the kid running around trying to smack King with a tree branch, was the weirdest thing that had happened to her in the last fifty years at least.

“I’m the King of Demons!” King yelled, climbing on a bench. “I shall never be defeated!”

“And I’m a Knight!” Luz answered, barely managing to hide her smile under a frown. “Sworn by valor!” she yelled, before launching forwards, branding the tree branch like a sword.

Eda blinked away the surprise before her expression settled into a smile. As she watched Luz and King play, stretching her wings so they got the full brunt of the sun of early afternoon, she came to the conclusion that she had kept herself away from the outside world for too long, if she no longer knew the games kids played these days.

She hadn’t truly meant to. She and King used to travel a lot, at first. After they’d started to figure out the specifics of the curse, when Eda’s appearance hadn’t yet been that of a monster, they’d travelled all around the Boiling Islands. All around the world, honestly. For many long years, they hadn’t settled in one place for long, and it had been…good. Fun. To feel free.

However, the more the curse took over her, the more difficult it became to travel unnoticed. So they had stopped. They’d still gone out a lot though, until recent years, when Eda started to be too tired to want to do more than sleep and tend to her garden.

“Vandal!” Luz yelled, tackling King into the ground. If Eda was alert, it was only out of habit, not because she thought the kid would be able to hurt King anyway. Still, she relaxed when King giggled, her wings sprawling open in utter contentment.

It did her heart good, to see him laugh like that.

It had been a long time too.

And then, unable to help herself, Eda peered to the right.

Luz’s mom —Camila, Eda knew, although it was not like they had introduced each other— was asleep under a peach tree. And that, too, was weird, Eda thought, immediately looking away, although for a different set of complicated reasons.

The first was, of course, that the woman hated her. Not without reason, perhaps. It did make things more difficult than they had to be, especially because there seemed to be an unresolved conflict between the woman and Eda’s newly acquired apprentice.

She ruminated over it. That first day, after Camila had been sick, Eda had gone to Luz to tell her about her mother and the kid’s answer had been, “That’s okay. I’m used to it. She’s always working anyway.”

Which was…well…not okay. Not okay at all. Not only because it was ridiculous to her that a parent and child could be at such odds, but because, if she was going to spend her last days with these people —and Camila hadn’t shown any signs of going anywhere—, she sure as hell wasn’t going to spend them with people that couldn’t stand each other.

Eda thought about it all day, and at night, after another awful and tense dinner, Eda went straight to the library, summoning both Hooty and Owlbert, a plan forming in her mind the more information she gathered.

“Really, Eda?” King snorted from his place near the window. Eda had not invited him to the library, but by now she knew it was useless to try and hide something from him. “You’re going to meddle, aren’t you?”

Eda cackled. “Are you kidding? I finally have something to amuse me after all these years! Of course I’m going to meddle!”

King rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything further.

Eda rubbed her hands together. It was strange, going from having nothing to do to having so many things to plan, but even if it was merely for a short time, she’d take it.

Livelier than she had been in a long time, Eda began to plot.

* * *

It was ten days after Luz had made her deal that King planted himself in front of Camila and asked, “Do you like to read?”

Camila, from where she was sitting on a bench with a book, completely absorbed in the properties of spiderwort and wishing she had somewhere to take notes, looked at King and, instead of an answer, raised an eyebrow.

King had the decency to blush. He shifted his weight, and if he mumbled under his breath something like _Eda_ and _idiot_ and _fault_ , Camila pretended not to hear.

“Oh, so you DO like books! What a surprise!” King said, loudly and not sounding surprised at all.

“Okay,” Camila answered, both bewildered and exhausted.

King made a face again, and suddenly Camila understood.

As discreetly as she could, she looked up. Eda and Luz were several feet away, close enough that Camila could keep an eye on them but far enough that Luz felt Camila wasn’t eavesdropping.

That day, they were near the kitchen, at the feet of the white tower that was the highest point of the castle. Against a wall, there was a small, disorganized shed, and that day Luz’s task was, from what Camila understood, to pick out the magical items from what looked like a pile of junk and order the rest.

At that moment, Luz had her back to Camila. She was talking to Eda, and the woman appeared to be listening to her, except, as if feeling Camila’s stare, suddenly she glanced back at her for a moment before quickly looking back at Luz.

_Well_ , Camila thought, confused.

King sighed.

“Okay, come on!” he called, although it didn’t seem to be directed to Camila.

Reluctantly, Camila stood.

“Is there something you want my help with?” she asked King, politely. So far, the only person --if you could call him a person-- she felt comfortable talking to was Hooty. And King, although he didn’t feel like a threat, left Camila feeling unbalanced.

It was apparent, however, that the demon didn’t feel the same. He shrugged, shaking his head, and Camila reluctantly noticed how cute he was.

“Nah. It’s just that I’m surrounded by idiots,” he told her, conversationally, and from the other side of the small yard, Eda snorted.

King raised his eyes towards Camila, as if to prove a point, and it was all Camila could do not to smile at him.

After a few moments of silent debate, Camila gave up. It grated her, but she had spent enough time watching Luz and Eda interact to know how _good_ she was with Luz. Better than Camila, apparently, as Luz was always bright and lively when she was talking to the woman. She hadn’t been like that with Camila in years.

Swallowing her bitterness, she nodded, silently following King out of the garden and into the castle. She was surprised when Eda followed at a distance, Luz by her side, but by now Camila was too much of a mess to comment without saying something she’d regret.

However, despite her bad mood, she did pay attention to where King was taking her. Camila had never been to that part of the castle, but by the position of the door it was clear the room King was leading them into was a big one.

King opened the heavy wooden door with an ease that was at odds with his small body, and Camila was about to ask something when she saw what was beyond the door and stopped speechless.

A library.

Camila stared, breathless-- she had always been fond of libraries. Even as a child, she’d loved the beautiful library at Hexside. As an adult, when she had had the chance to travel, she’d visited some more. She had her own, small and modest as it was.

This one, though…

Camila looked around in wonder, every single of her worries fading away for one blissful second. It was all polished wood and ornate iron stairs that curled into themselves towards the open second floor. In the center of the room, above a big work desk and between two long windows, there was a beautiful and detailed map of the Demon Realm, along with its connections to the other Nine Realms of Death.

But, although interesting, Camila didn’t have the attention span for that. The books! There were books from floor to ceiling, neatly ordered in rows, some looking so old that Camila’s fingers itched with the need to find out what they were about.

“Wow,” Luz whispered from beside her, and Camila startled, not having noticed when she had come so close. “This is the sort of place I always thought you’d live in if you could,” Luz said, grinning up to Camila.

Camila chuckled, and for a moment everything was okay. It was like before --before Camila had stopped talking to Luz out of fear, too afraid to confirm what Luz was doing in secret to ask, and also too afraid of the danger she was putting Luz in with what _she_ was doing to be sincere.

However, as if she realized what she was doing, Luz’s grin suddenly dropped and she took a step back, shattering the illusion.

“I…” Camila started, unable to find the words to bring Luz back to her side.

The silence that fell over them was heavy, but for the life of her, Camila didn’t know what to say.

“You’re welcome to everything in here-- both of you,” Eda said, her low voice breaking through the awkwardness. “There’s paper and quills and...empty journals. If you want them. For anything.” Surprised, Camila looked at her, but the woman seemed very interested in the map of the Nine Realms.

Narrowing her eyes, Camila nodded. She refused to say her thanks aloud.

However, in the following days things did improve a little for Camila. Not because she now had something to do, as she was too proud to touch the books, no matter how much she longed to. It was a relief to be able to communicate with the outside world, and the first thing she did was write to her apprentice. Her letter was carried by a very small, brown owl that looked curiously at her while she wrote, softly hooting to himself.

“Owlbert,” Eda had said at breakfast as she nonchalantly deposited the small owl near Camila. She was once again not looking at her, which Camila was starting to find irritating. “He’ll help with your mail.”

Owlbert was back with the answer to Camila’s letter barely an hour after he’d left. He’d looked proud of himself, and had perched on Camila’s shoulder as she read the answer.

She sighed in relief. Willow was a smart kid, and from what she said, everything seemed to be in order at the clinic, and she’d be delighted to take care of Camila’s plants while she was gone. She also wished her and Luz well in the trip Camila had invented, and wished a quick recovery for the fictional relative they were taking care of.

That outcome did put Camila’s mind at ease, if only because it was one less thing to worry about, and it gave her more time to focus all of her energy in getting Luz to talk to her.

However, if Camila expected that time at the library to repeat itself, she was disappointed. If anything, Luz became more stubborn, determined not to talk or look at or even be in Camila’s vicinity.

Another week passed like this, and every day that went by she could feel the resentment grow stronger and stronger. It was directed at herself, of course, because she was self aware enough to understand how the whole situation with Luz was the result of her own mistakes. And yet, she couldn’t help but look at Eda, who was the recipient of all of Luz’s attention and admiration, and feel bitterness and animosity churn in her gut like acid.

It was one of those days that Camila, at the end of her rope, left her room in the dead of night.

It had been the moon’s fault.

That night, Camila wasn’t able to sleep. She turned in bed time and time again, but her mind would not settle, and as the minutes passed it had felt like the walls were closing in on her, coming closer and closer, until it was hard to think anything else but the _bad_ things, until the panic became like a stone on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

When she finally left the bed, the room was quiet. Around her, the night was still and dark except for a single ray of silver light that spilled through the heavy curtains.

She pulled the curtains back almost without noticing. Outside, the light of the moon had turned the garden from green to silver and blue and white, and it was such a sight that originally compelled Camila to leave her room.

The castle, too, was silent. She’d never left her room at night before, so her heart pounded in her chest, not certain if she was allowed to be out at night or not.

Still, there was something sweet in the silence of the castle. The many castle’s long windows let the moonlight in, and bathed in silver light everything felt more ephemeral, like a very delicate dream.

When Camila noticed, her feet had taken her, not down to the kitchen and out to the gardens, but to the library.

However, it wasn’t empty. There, sitting on a long burgundy couch in front of the fire, was Eda, reading by the light of a candle.

Camila drew in a sharp breath, blinking as if awakening from a long dream, as if she had finally hit the surface after being underwater.

Immediately, she turned around, determined to leave, and she already had her back to the room when a voice stopped her.

“You don’t have to leave,” Eda said, in that neutral tone Camila had already heard directed at her once before. Maybe because it was the dead of night, although she’d spoken softly, her words sounded harsh, loud in the big emptiness of the room, grating on Camila’s nerves. “You can...be here if you want. Use anything you need.”

Camila gritted her teeth, irrationally angry.

“How kind of you,” Camila snapped, hating how upset she sounded, her voice an awful clash to the Owl Lady’s composed tones.

Camila didn’t need to turn around to recognize the flinch. She felt in the sudden stillness of the room, in the tension that gathered around them, unforgiving.

“So,” Eda started, finally sounding irritated, and Camila told herself she didn’t enjoy the fact. “What did I do to get on your bad side?”

Camila whirled around at this, eyes wide, unable to believe what she had heard.

“What did you do?” she asked, incredulous, and maybe it had been a bad idea to turn around, because the library was, too, bathed in the silver light of the moon, but Eda was standing by the fire, and the light around her was not white but red and gold, and it made her eyes glow all the brighter. Somewhere in her mind, Camila was aware she should be afraid of this person, except she wasn’t. She was transfixed, perhaps, and very angry, but not afraid. “Do you intend to keep my daughter as your servant forever? As your gardener, maybe?”

Eda frowned. Behind her, her wings flared up ever so slightly.

“What is it that bothers you about her making her own choices?” she asked, calm once more, and Camila saw red.

“How dare you say that after tricking her into being your slave!” she lashed out.

“Trick her?” Eda repeated, grimacing. “You mean, by not lying to her?”

Camila’s eyes flashed. She didn’t know if Eda knew what she was saying --if Luz had talked to her about this or not-- but anyway the words cut deep.

“How dare you! How dare you talk as if…!”

“It’s true that I don’t know anything about you,” Eda interrupted, shrugging. “Other than that kid would rather make a deal with a total stranger than have an honest conversation with you.”

Camila took a step back, as if she had been physically struck. She could feel her eyes fill with tears, but she would not cry in front of this person. She wouldn’t.

So, instead, she turned around and left.

The cold air of autumn felt good in Camila’s warm cheeks, but she ran, blindly, until her legs gave up from under her.

She hated it.

Hated the castle, and the garden, and the moon. Hated not being able to talk to Luz. That the Owl Lady was right.

Herself.

Above everything, she hated herself, and so Camila finally wept in the silent garden, and the tears kept coming, and she cried until she had nothing left inside her, until she couldn’t breathe, or think, or feel anything.

It was only when she raised her head that she noticed she’d collapsed in the rose garden, in front of the half-frozen rose bush. Under the silver light of the moon, the golden rose looked more fragile still, beautiful as it was encased in ice. Eyes red, Camila looked at it, and it didn’t give her any comfort to think that the golden rose was the only beautiful thing in this wretched place.


	5. Interlude: Moonlight (1)

The moon rose from behind the horizon, pale and almost transparent against the pastel colors of the sunset.

That day, as she did every time there was a full moon, Eda retired early. It was strange to do so, if only because she was so used to her routine. Usually, King knew to give her space during the full moon, at least until the moon started to go down in the sky, when all bets were off. However, the presence of Luz and Camila in the castle had disrupted the routines Eda (and King) had followed for a very long time — and if that was a good or bad thing, Eda did not yet know.

In her tower, Eda waited.

As usual, she tried to settle down, with more success than on other occasions. Although by all means she should already have been used to it, in the hours that preceded the arrival of her visitor, she always felt tense. In that quiet moment of twilight, while the sky finished shedding its golds and reds in favor of steel blues, while the moon rose in the sky, Eda was always nervous.

This time around, she read in an attempt to calm her nerves. It had been long since she’d had any interest in books, and _The Good Witch Azura_ was definitely not a book she would have chosen herself. It was terrible too, with its flowery and awful language, and vaguely insulting to witches, but, with more patience than she’d ever thought she’d had, Eda had read on. Not for the book itself, mind, but because it had been the kid who’d lent it to her, and despite herself, Eda enjoyed Luz’s excited eyes every morning, wanting every detail of what Eda had read the night before.

So, to pass the time until her visitor arrived, she read. It was either that or staring at the family portraits hanging on her walls, and she didn’t feel like getting sentimental tonight.

When the moment came, although Eda felt it as a wind of magic entering the room, she didn’t raise her eyes from her book to watch. She knew what would happen: the ripple in the silver pool of moonlight that Eda had let in by opening the balcony doors, the way it would grow, taking a ghostly shape.

It always made Eda nauseous to watch, so she didn’t, but she was aware of the exact moment she no longer was alone in her room.

“I see that there have been additions to the household since the last time I visited,” Lilith commented, straight to the point as always. It had been a long time since they had stopped with pleasantries, intent to make the most of every second they had together.

Eda grinned, a display of fangs she was not self-conscious about, as happy to hear her sister’s snotty voice as she always was.

Stepping out of the moonlight, Lilith glided around the room like a ghost. As usual, she seemed to be made of light. At least, she was incorporeal in the same way light was, and black being her color --her hair, her dress, her wings all being the same color as the night-- she looked almost grey in the half darkness of Eda’s bedroom.

It had unnerved Eda, the first handful of years, before she’d learned to associate Lilith with the moon more than with a ghost.

“You don’t know half of it,” Eda sighed, and, making sure to be as dramatic as possible, closed the book she was reading and stretched across the old fashioned love seat, throwing an arm over her eyes for maximum effect.

She could almost _hear_ Lilith rolling her eyes.

However, when she peeked, Lilith was smirking, apparently amused by Eda’s antics. When she had that expression on her face --amusement and affection clear in her eyes--, Lilith looked remarkably like their mother, and Eda tried not to peer behind her sister to the big family portrait that dominated the room. It always made her nostalgic, and she was determined to fully enjoy the few hours she had with her sister.

So she pushed away the wistfulness, and instead launched into a detailed recount of her first encounter with Luz, the kid’s proposition, and Eda’s impulsive decision.

By the time she finished, Lilith’s eyebrows were raised so high Eda thought they might fall off her face.

“But her mom hates me,” Eda concluded, with a sigh that was not quite as fake as she wanted.

Lilith blinked, tilting her head like a bird.

“Oh?” she prompted. She looked a tad surprised and a bit dizzy, like she was processing a lot of information... which was probably the case. They hadn’t had this many things happen to either of them in a very long time.

So Eda elaborated. She recounted the initial confrontation, and how Camila had bristed when Eda had wanted to talk to her in the garden, the distrustful looks, and generally described the woman’s antagonism, how they hadn’t even formally introduced each other and Eda knew Camila’s name from _Luz_.

She also told Lilith some of the things Camila had said when she’d been sick, and some she herself had guessed-- about the woman’s magical research, and Belos, and the danger she must be in if she had come to his attention.

“And I _can_ help, you know?” Eda finished, trying not to pout. “If she only could stand the sight of me, of course! If she wasn’t so damned proud, and stubborn! I _would_ help if she let me!”

Eda was so frustrated that it took her a couple of seconds to notice the silence in the room.

A long, long silence, in which Eda tried to pretend she wasn’t as flustered and worked up as she was.

“Edalyn Clawthorne,” Lilith finally said, full of glee, and oh, no. No. Eda knew that tone. “You _like_ her.”

Eda choked on nothing.

“What? I do _not_!” she protested, her wings fluffing up in response to Lilith’s baseless accusation.

But Lilith was grinning, and although she didn’t have fangs, her smile was just as sharp.

“Your wings have always been very expressive, sister,” Lilith pointed out, and Eda grimaced, eyes going to Lilith’s own wings. Black, as they were the Raven’s wings, and neatly folded against her back. Unlike Eda, Lilith had had complete command of them even since they’d been little, and she had always felt it wasn’t fair. “Oh, this is so good!” Lilith continued, rubbing her hands. “But before anything else, you must tell me: what insanely crazy thing did this woman do that made you immediately crush on her?”

Feeling contrary, Eda crossed her arms and looked away, determined not to answer.

Lilith hummed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lilith move around the room a little bit, like she was reacquainting herself with it, before taking a seat on the armchair across Eda. It had surprised both of them, at first, that Lilith was solid enough that she could manipulate objects. She also had enough control of her wings that she could fly, and she could also go through walls if she concentrated enough. However, she absolutely couldn’t do magic, nor manifest anywhere the moonlight didn’t touch.

Once seated, Lilith stretched. First her arms, then her back, and finally her wings. That caught Eda’s attention. Lily’s wings were huge, even as ghostly as they were, well groomed and strong, and for a moment Eda clearly remembered the beautiful blue shimmer they used to have before she had been reduced to this.

As if in response to the display, Eda’s own wings trembled a little. It had been long since Eda had gotten over the shame of the state of her wings, which in comparison were messy and matted. It had been Lily who’d groomed them, and Eda had stubbornly not allowed anyone to touch them since.

“This form always feels so strange,” Lilith commented as if she had already forgotten what they had been discussing, and Eda narrowed her eyes.

“I know what you’re doing,” Eda grumbled.

“Oh? And what is that, dear sister?” Lilith asked, in that fake polite tone she had used to annoy Eda since they were children.

“Stop it!” Eda demanded, indeed annoyed that Lilith had the ability to make her feel like she was ten.

“Oh, but I have, haven’t I?” Lilith pointed out, in the exact same tone. “Since you very obviously don’t want to talk about it.”

They stared at each other for a while, Eda glaring and Lilith with a raised eyebrow and a smartass expression that had often made Eda pull on her hair when they were kids.

And, as usual, Lily won.

“Urgh, okay!” Eda capitulated, throwing her hands in the air. She allowed herself a few more seconds to sulk before she confessed, “…she threatened me with a sword.”

“With a…” Lilith managed before she burst out laughing. Eda tried really hard to sulk some more, but it had been a while since she’d seen her sister laugh like that, and couldn’t quite manage. “She threatened the Owl Guard with a sword!” Lilith repeated, laughing some more, and Eda didn’t appreciate how she didn’t need to stop to breathe. “Of _course_ you like her! You’ve always had a thing for women with swords.”

“Okay, first of all, that was only once,” Eda defended. “Secondly, I was fourteen, and she was the Commander of the Royal Guard, _everyone_ had a crush on her.” Eda smirked. “And if I remember correctly, you were crushing on her as well.”

For another nice long moment, Lilith’s laughter filled the room. Unlike Eda’s undignified cackles, Lilith’s laugh was nice to hear, high and clear. Like bells, Eda would have thought, if she’d been sentimental enough for it. She wasn’t, but still it eased her heart to have Lilith with her, to hear her laughing, and for a blissful moment of reprieve everything was well, and there was no curse hanging over them, and it was just them hanging out together and teasing each other as they done before things had gone so terribly wrong.

By the time Lilith stopped laughing Eda’s expression had cleared, a small smile hovering over her lips in response to her sister’s amusement.

“Ah, yes, well, _that_ was an anomaly for me,” Lilith admitted, eyes bright. “That’s not quite my type.”

“No, your type is quiet and kind, isn’t that right?” Eda teased, and Lilith looked away, a pale silver blush delicately blooming on her cheeks.

It was Eda’s turn to laugh, although not too much. She would not tease her sister about that.

“Ah, well, be as it may she hates me,” Eda concluded, making the executive decision to stop being embarrassed about it. She was an adult, and she could deal with a little unrequited crush. It was not like anything would --could-- come out of it anyway.

“Well, you’re stubborn, so I’m sure you’ll find a way to meddle,” Lilith mumbled under her breath.

Eda perked up.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

“…you did make an everlasting oath with her daughter,” Lilith remarked, as if she hadn’t said anything. “Why did you do it?”

The shift in the mood of the room was swift and almost tangible. Suddenly restless, Eda left the loveseat to go to the balcony. The tower of the castle, which Eda had taken for herself after she’d been cursed, had once been their mother and uncle’s studio. Even now, Eda remembered being little and seeing their mother’s black wings --Lilith’s wings-- eclipsing the sun for a second before she landed on the balcony.

The tower, more than the rest of the castle, had been designed for the Clawthorne family, which meant the studio had one wall --the one that faced the east-- made completely of glass, reinforced with a white criss cross pattern that had always reminded Eda of their mother’s favorite gazebo in the rose garden. It was there that the french doors opened to a circular balcony, and there that Eda stopped, her face half reflected on the clear glass of the huge wall.

When she stepped into the moonlight, the light on her pale skin felt like little sparks, but that was all.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, the lie bitter on her tongue. She looked at her own reflection, at her gaunt face, at the feathers that were covering more and more of her arms each day, and finally dared to say a truth that had been coming since the day the curse had settled over her heart. “I don’t have much time left.”

A pale shadow moved in the depths of the room and soon enough Lilith appeared behind her.

“Eda…” she started, voice heavy, and Eda knew what she was going to say.

“No. I can feel it. We both know.” She looked down at her hands, letting the sparks of magic dance over her palms, uselessly. “The moonlight no longer helps me return to my true form.”

She was exhausted all of a sudden. It was not only the exhaustion of the curse, although that was part of it. They’d run a long race --a so very long race-- and this was the end. It was over. They had lost, but even so, Eda had come to terms with it.

She could feel the curse eating away at her almost non-existent magic. It would be soon, Eda knew. But it was okay. She had had a good run.

“I thought, perhaps…maybe I can transfer my bond with Owlbert to the girl,” Eda said, voice weak. “She’s a good kid. That way, he won’t have to…”

“If you do that, he’ll always hate you for it,” Lilith told her, voice stern, and Eda’s smile was bitter.

“When it happens…” Eda swallowed, willing her voice not to tremble. “You…?”

“I’ll be fine,” Lilith said, and Eda was incredibly glad Lily had understood what she meant. “I don’t think She’ll hand me over to Belos.” Eda didn’t miss how Lily hadn’t said anything further --whether she would have to stay forever as a specter once a month and a pet the rest of the time, or how she felt about it. Maybe she had come to terms with it too, like Eda had. She didn’t dare ask. “Sister…” Lilith trailed off.

Eda turned towards Lilith, and the silence that fell over them was heavy. There were a lot more things Eda wanted to ask Lilith, ask _of_ her. Would she keep an eye on Owlbert and Luz, if she could? Would she come to King, once Eda was gone? But she could see in her sister’s face that there was no need. After all, except for one thing, they had always been of the same mind on this issue. Both of them knew.

“I don’t regret it,” Eda said to the night, defiant.

Lilith shook her head. “Neither do I,” she agreed, softly. For a moment, Lilith closed her eyes, hands clasped over her heart as if she was guarding something precious. When she opened her eyes, despite the rest of her being like a faded photograph, her eyes shone bright green, as if ablaze with magic. “Sworn by valor, by blood, by oath.”

Eda grinned, and for a second her magic flared too in response to the vow she had also taken, golden and wild and beautiful.

“Edalyn…” Lilith started to say, her expression suddenly so fragile Eda thought she might break at the smallest touch. It was there and gone in a second. As if a cloud had covered the moon and then faded away, when the moment passed it was Lilith in front of her again, Lilith the Raven Guard, haughty and proud and powerful. “Where is the scoundrel this time? Is he so high and mighty that he did not come to see me tonight?”

And Eda loved Lilith. She loved her with a fireceness that rivalled the most powerful magic, and she knew her sister loved her back as much.

She had always known it. She’d always known, even in the worst times, and she also knew that, despite whatever happened in the future, no one, no even Death, could ever take this away from either of them.

“Well, maybe he fell asleep after having dinner like a BABY,” Eda said in a loud voice.

“I’m not a baby!” King yelled from the other side of the closed door, and Lilith and Eda shared a knowing glance and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing these two so much. Also, the capital "She" in Lilith's speech wasn't a typo :D


	6. Dreams of Three / Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, sorry this took forever! life has been distracting in the best of ways, and my writing schedule is all over the place! thanks for your patience, I hope next chapter won't take this long!

It took Eda two nights to find the spell she wanted, and another one to make sure it didn’t have any weird side effects.

King had mocked her, of course. During those three nights, while Eda read and cross referenced, he had sat near her, looking at maps and doing his own research, and from time to time he’d get bored and mock Eda for having turned into a book worm in her old age.

Which, rude. First of all, she wasn’t _really_ old -- no matter how long she had lived, her looks were the curse’s fault and Lilith was proof of that. Secondly, although she’d never been good at school, it had never been because she hadn’t enjoyed reading. Eda was smart, thank you very much, it was just the pointless busywork she despised. And thirdly, well...she wasn’t stupid enough to try a powerful spell without thoroughly finding out what it did first.

However, the only spell she’d found that had nothing weird going on -- like making a person unable to eat anything but celery or causing prophetic seizure-dreams each time some stars aligned-- was still dubious enough to give her pause.

“Are you going to act like my conscience, now?” Eda had asked with a raised eyebrow when King peered at the page of the book she had open in front of her.

_Dreams of Three_ , the book read. Not perfect, as Eda was not interested in the first two dreams, only in the last: a dream that would reveal a person’s biggest fear. Under other circumstances, of course, she wouldn’t have used such a method, but her current state made her uncertain of how long she had left and she couldn’t take the long route to get what she wanted.

There was also the fact that, in her opinion, there was nothing better to prompt a person to be honest than reminding them of what they feared the most.

“I don’t think there is a point,” King had sighed, long suffering. “Since you have never once in your life listened to me,” he complained, with feeling.

Eda grinned. “Damn right.”

So the fourth night after starting her little project, Eda climbed to her tower after the castle fell silent with King at her heels, as usual. Although her magic was not suited for dream spells — those were more attuned to Lily’s magic—, and Eda was at her weakest at night, she could feel her own excitement as magic bubbling just under her skin, eager to be put into use.

Nevertheless, she was methodical in her preparations. She read the spell once more, made sure everything was ready. As an afterthought, she opened the glass doors to the balcony to let the night air in.

As if he had been waiting for a sign, Owlbert eagerly landed on her staff as soon as she picked it up. He fused with it so quickly that Eda chuckled, gently petting the now wooden owl that adorned the top of her staff.

“You’ve missed this too, huh?” she asked her palisman, relishing the familiar weight of the staff in her hand.

Smiling, she closed her eyes for a moment. She loved this too, she had always had. The moment of tension before Eda tested her powers, the uncertainty of not knowing if she would measure up to the task. The still moment that preceded change, the charged air before a thunderstorm.

When she opened her eyes, they were full of golden light. She chanted the spell as she moved, a golden circle of light being left behind by the movement of the staff.

Once she did it. Then twice. Then three times.

By the third time, the light was no longer golden --Eda’s own magic-- but white and blue and green: the colors of the spell.

And now for the difficult part.

Holding the web of the spell in place with one hand, Eda used her staff to push through it. Two balls of light shot outwards, flying across the room, out the window and downwards like shooting stars, towards the two people they were intended for.

She subdued the third one, face tense with concentration, pushing down until it was a single small point of light, the white breaking into all the colors of the rainbow for a single moment. With effort, Eda guided it to a small round table a few feet away from her, and almost sighed in relief when King placed a glass dome over it, caging the light in.

For a single moment, the ball of light moved around, almost as if made of water, circling the glass dome as if looking for an exit. And then, with another golden circle, Eda placed a golden seal of magic over it that curled like a spiderweb over the glass. With a final shake, the light stilled.

Eda released the breath she’d been holding. Her body was thrumming with magic, her wings shivering with suppressed energy.

“Will it work?” King asked, unnecessarily because it wasn’t like Eda could take back the spell.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Eda answered, her attention not really on King.

Instead, she went to the balcony, and allowing herself to cherish the feeling of freedom that her magic always gave her, she extended her wings and took towards the starry sky.

* * *

The light passed through the glass of Luz’s window as if it wasn’t there.

It illuminated the room as it moved through it, an ethereal mass of white, blue and green. It stopped just above the sleeping girl, waiting.

As if sensing the disturbance, Luz stirred. The girl was a messy sleeper, half out of the covers and sprawled all over the bed, taking as much space as possible. However, she didn’t wake. Still asleep, she shifted to her side and then stilled again, breathing evening out as she went back to deep sleep.

The ball of magic started to drip light, fat drops like water spreading from Luz’s head to her feet that were tangled in the bankets. The girl’s skin glowed for a moment as the magic sank in, and then, as soon as it started, the room was plunged once again into darkness.

The jar or jam slipped through Luz’s small, chubby hands, smashing against the floor and sending bits of glass all over the kitchen. Disconcerted, Luz stared at the mess of red against the white tile, heart beating hard on her chest and something burning behind her eyes.

Silently, she climbed down the kitchen counter —where she knew she shouldn’t be, of course— until her small feet touched the floor once more. Silently, she tiptoed among the mess, trying not to get anything dirtier than it was. Silently, she opened the kitchen door, just in time to see her mom leaving her study, alarm and concern clearly written across her face.

“Sweetheart,” her mom said, “What was that noise? Are you okay?”

And just as silently, Luz crossed the distance between them, threw herself into her mom’s arms, and because she was scared, and felt guilty, but she was finally safe in her mom’s embrace, she loudly burst into tears.

A memory, Luz realized, with the vague awareness that comes with dreams sometimes. And yet, she burrowed herself deeper in her mom’s embrace, because she felt safe and loved, and she didn’t remember the last time she had dared to seek comfort like this.

The dream shifted.

The forest around her was dark, wild, forgotten. In Luz’s chest, her heart was pounding, because she knew she was close to finding the thing she’d been looking for, close to the end of a very long journey.

“Over here!” she heard her own voice call, except it was deeper, more confident, older. She was also wearing a traveling cloak, and her mom’s sword was at her waist.

And then, the forest ended, giving way to a hidden lake. There was something shimmering in its depths, something made of gold, and Luz watched in awe as her friend went into the lake, and when he came out there was a monster in his place, a monster with two horns and a crown on his head.

“Luz,” Camila called her, and Luz turned around.

Suddenly, she was not in the lake. Around her, everything was dark, an endless, empty room, and when she looked at her hands she noticed she was herself again.

“Luz,” Camila repeated, and Luz froze when she saw her.

Camila was standing a few feet away from her. She was wearing her doctor scrubs, which Luz was used to, but there was something incredibly off about her that made the girl take a step back. Suddenly, she felt afraid.

“Mom?”

“What did you do this time?” Camila asked, voice tired, and Luz felt her stomach twitch in guilt as it always did when she knew she was being a disappointment.

“I broke the jar of jam,” Luz found herself answering, without knowing why. She felt confused, thoughts sluggish, like she was fighting against a current, and under the fear she had the nagging sense that something was wrong.

“Of course you did. You’ve always been clumsy,” Camila sighed, and Luz flinched as if she’d been struck. “I’m so tired of this, Luz,” Camila continued, pinching the bridge of her nose above her glasses. And she did sound tired, exhausted, and Luz had often heard her like this of late, and she’d always tried to make herself smaller when she did, afraid of being more of a burden. “Could you give me a break? I knew if you tried harder you could fit in. Be normal.”

“I _do_ try!” Luz yelled, unable to hold back. She _had_ tried. Again and again, she had tried. To fit in, to be a good daughter, to be someone that her mom could be proud of.

“Not hard enough!” Camila snapped, voice heavy with contempt. “It’s so exhausting to deal with you. You cause nothing but trouble. I already have enough work to have to clean up your messes every time you are reckless!”

Luz took a step back, blinking back tears. She’d known this, deep down. She’d known her mom would get tired of her sooner than later, she knew it was a matter of time until she gave up on her.

“What can I do?” Luz cried out. “What can I do to make you proud?” A feeling thought like a shooting star crossed her mind. “If I have magic…will that make me special? Will that be enough? If I have this power…will it…will it make it okay…?” _for me to be your daughter_ , she didn’t dare say, but might as well have screamed it.

Fear choked Luz in the silence that followed. In the endless emptiness of the room, her words lingered, as if weighted down by a strange eco. Desperate, Luz waited for an answer to the questions she always had hidden in the depths of her heart, the ones that crept up when she didn’t have enough sense to make enough noise to drown them out.

“How stupid,” Camila, voice as cold as ice, and something strange happened.

Luz blinked, expecting the pain of the rejection to come…but it didn’t. Instead, she took another long look at Camila, and blinked again, confused.

This woman was looking at Luz with indifference. With disdain, almost glaring from over her glasses, and suddenly Luz knew what was wrong.

“You’re not my mom,” she blurted out, and she knew as she was saying it that it was true. She knew because her mom might be angry, or tired, or disappointed, but Luz didn’t have a single memory of her mom looking at her with indifference.

Before her, the shape twisted on itself, growing larger, darker, without a specific form other than the mask of her mom’s face.

“You’ll always be a disappointment!” it yelled, voice full of anger. “You’ll never measure up! Nothing you can do will ever compensate for who you are!”

But even if the words stung, hitting Luz in the place of her heart that was most tender, she felt far away, disconnected.

She felt angry.

Her mom had been angry too, back then, she thought. She’d been furious with Luz, except that even then, the expression she had had on her face was not the same as the one this thing was directing at her. And with a pang of clarity, Luz understood the difference, because her mom’s actions after she’d found out about Luz’s deal with Eda hadn’t been born out of anger.

They had been born of fear.

_Ah_ , she thought, and when she woke up, she was surprised to find herself crying.

For a while, she curled in a small ball of misery. Around her, everything was silent. The room was dark and peaceful, and the only light was a single pale ray of moonlight that made everything look faintly silver.

And as Luz hugged her pillow and cried, the only thing that was clear to her was how much she wanted her mom to hug her at that moment.

* * *

Camila dreamt of being a child.

The door was closed.

The hallway in her childhood home had not been very long, but in the dream it felt endless, dark and empty.

Nothing behind her, and a closed door in front of her.

“Dad?” she called, trying to open the door. It didn’t come as a surprise that her voice was small. She knew what was happening. She’d been twelve the day her mother hadn’t returned, and although no one had told her anything, she’d known something was wrong.

Behind the closed door, her father cried.

“Dad!” Camila cried again, desperate. She needed him to open the door, because he was crying even though he always smiled for her during the day. “Let me in!”

_I want to cry too!_ she wanted to say. _I want to cry with you! Together!_

But the door remained closed, and as long as it remained closed, Camila couldn’t do anything.

“Dad, open the door!” she yelled, although she knew her voice wouldn’t be heard through it. “Talk to me! I don’t understand! Why…? Why don’t you trust me?”

_I already knew you don’t trust me!_ another voice yelled, and Camila stopped, eyes widening in realization.

Camila took a step back as the dream shifted.

The noise of the crowd was like buzzing in her ears. She was in the middle of a tournament of some sort, for there were flags flying in the wind, and she had her mother’s sword in her hand, and as she scanned her surroundings, she realized she was looking for someone.

On a tall podium in the place of honor, four people were sitting. A dark haired woman with raven wings was sitting on the outer left. Next to her, in the center, there was a slender hooded figure that Camila ignored in favor of the Emperor, who was looking at her with ice cold blue eyes. The last figure, however, was the one that demanded all of Camila’s attention. A white haired woman garbed in red was asleep on the final chair, and as she looked at her, Camila had the feeling this was _not_ the person she was looking for.

Confused, she blinked, and the dream changed again.

Her breath came out as cloud as the temperature dropped, and Camila looked at the ice around her, both fascinated and horrified. Suddenly, Luz was in front of her, in short sleeves and without anything to protect her from the cold.

Panicked, Camila tried to reach her, only to discover her feet were frozen to the ground. In front of her, Luz was speaking, yelling something, but Camila couldn’t hear her voice.

When she reached towards her ears, she realized they were frozen, shapes of ice growing around Camila’s head like a crown.

“Luz!” she called, because she wanted to hear what Luz was saying, she needed to, and it was cold and Luz didn’t have anything to warm her and Camila needed to protect her.

With a huge effort she finally freed herself, and held Luz to her. But something was wrong. Ice extended from the place Camila’s hands touched her daughter, ice spiderwebs that slowly turned her into solid ice.

“No!” Camila cried out. She tried to stop it, but it was with utter horror that she realized it was her touch that was doing this to Luz. Breaking her. Destroying her.

“Please, no!” she cried again, and then she woke up.

Camila looked up at the bed canopy, blindly, heart beating hard in her chest.

Slowly, she exhaled, trying to shake off the fear of the dream. It wasn’t often that she recalled her dreams, but this time she did— she remembered everything clearly, some of her realizations making her mind reel.

She was an idiot. A willful idiot, even. It had been a long time since Camila had last thought about her father, about her childhood. She had thought herself over all that, and clearly that had been a mistake.

To do the same thing to Luz…to repeat her father’s behavior, to distance herself from her child, as if she hadn’t known that what Luz needed more than anything was her mother. Her reassurance, and her affection, and her trust.

With a sigh, she covered her face with her hands, exhausted. The image of Luz turning into ice under her hands was engraved in her mind.

“Pull yourself together,” she mumbled between gritted teeth, angry at herself. “Grow up, Camila! Grow up!”

The knock cut through the silence of the night like a knife, and Camila flinched, her heart instinctively quickening at the sound.

Having just awakened, the dream was still too close for the sound not to cause a spike of fear. For a long moment, Camila laid in bed and listened, breathing quietly, trying to discern if she had imagined the sound, or if she had really heard it.

However, just as she was starting to relax, the sound came again, a firm knock that she felt in her chest, almost as if it had come from her heart.

With wide eyes, Calima looked to her right, towards the door she shared with Luz.

Blindly, she threw the covers back. She dashed across the room without thought, not minding the cold stone biting her bare feet. For a second of superstitious fear, she hesitated, but neither her past or her fear would ever be able to keep her away from her daugther if she needed her.

In a determined, almost violent move, Camila threw the door open. And there, on the other side, Luz was looking up at her, clad in her pajamas and with tears in her eyes.

“Mom?” she sniffled, a small, hesitant sound as if Luz wasn’t sure if she’d be welcomed, but even before that Camila was already reaching out and holding Luz close to her, tears blurring her vision.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Camila said into Luz’s hair. “I’m so, so sorry. I was wrong. I’ve been unfair and hurtful to you, and I’m so sorry.”

In answer, Luz clung harder to her, hiding her face against her shoulder and bursting into loud, heartfelt sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Camila kept repeating, holding Luz and she herself was crying because she realized she didn’t remember the last time Luz clung to her like this. “I’m here now, I promise. I’m here.”

That night, they slept together like they had when Luz was little and had a nightmare, and when Luz’s sobs stopped and her breathing evened down in sleep, Camila made sure to securely tuck the blankets around her so she’d be warm, and settled back down.

Ready for the long night ahead of her, she closed her eyes to fully face her feelings, and thought.

* * *

Eda didn’t have breakfast with them that morning, and for the first time since Luz had arrived at the castle, she was glad.

At the same time, she was also concerned. Whatever the world thought of her, she wasn’t an idiot, and she’d seen how Eda would look tired sometimes, as if there was a heavy weight on her shoulders. However, when she asked King about her, the demon simply shrugged and reassured her that Eda had simply overexerted herself the night before.

“Nothing that sleeping in won’t fix,” he reassured her, and he looked so completely unconcerned that Luz finally relaxed.

So that day, she was free to walk with her mom through the gardens. It felt a bit strange, kind of rusty, but at the same time Luz liked it because she didn’t remember the last time she had all of her mom’s attention to herself without a time limit hanging over them like a sword. Luz reveled in it, and because she didn’t think Eda would mind, she told her mom every single detail about her training.

“Eda says that there was magic in the world, a long time ago,” Luz explained, shy at first because magic had been a taboo topic between them for a very long time, and more confidently after Camila’s expression remained open and encouraging and very evidently interested. “But something happened and most of it is gone. The only people that can do magic now are those with the power in themselves. But she also says there are traces of magic in the world still, and if I’m able to recognize and find them, then I can do magic too.”

“So that’s your training?” Camila asked, eyeing a stone bench under a tree far away from statues so Hooty couldn’t randomly interrupt.

“Yeah. She’s training me to recognize magic. And she says that she’ll teach me spells after I break her curse,” and then she stopped, unsure if she’d meet with her mom’s disapproval.

But Camila didn’t look bothered by it. “I see,” she simply commented, and she looked more thoughtful than anything.

They sat in the garden in silence for some time, Camila in the shade and Luz in the sun, sprawled on the grass like a starfish.

It helped, the sun. Under it, Luz could think about her dream and not be afraid. It hurt, of course, to be so keenly aware of much she wanted her mom’s approval. Honestly, it scared her still, to think that she might not ever get it. But still, another part of her thought of the first part of her dream, and about how her mom had opened the door even when Luz had not dared to knock, and the memory of her hug and her apologies were stronger than fear could ever be.

And more than that, Luz understood clearly that as long as she hid, she’d always feel unfulfilled, because no one would never accept her completely if Luz didn’t talk about the parts that were most important to her.

It took a lot of courage, but Luz talked to her mom about magic.

Slowly, Luz told Camila about the witch first, about seeing magic when she was little, about no one believing her, about being fascinated by it. She told her mom about how she’d been collecting stories about magic trying to find hints that lead her to people that could teach her. She told her about how she hadn’t believed her luck when she’d first found out they were moving and where, how she had had to hide it, and how difficult it had been to climb that wall.

She told her mom about her doubts, and her hopes, and, after hesitating a little, she confessed how it’d been _her_ who’d proposed the deal to Eda, not the other way around.

And all through this, even when Luz stammered and hesitated, and even when she had to stop to find words, Camila listened in silence. She didn’t interrupt, and for this Luz was grateful, because she didn’t think she could have stopped once she’d begun.

“...so...that’s me,” Luz concluded. And then, after a heartbeat. “...is that okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Camila said, voice full of emotion, and opened her arms to Luz. Luz went without hesitation, a weight falling off her shoulders at her mom’s reassurance. “Of course it’s okay. I love you. I know I might not have shown it much of late, and definitely not in the way you needed it, but I’ll try my best from now on. I love you, and it’s okay, and thank you so much for telling me all this.”

And in her mom’s arms, Luz nodded, and sighed a little, and then smiled and closed her eyes, soaking in her mom’s affection.

However, when she pulled away, her mom looked nervous.

“I...I have something to confess as well,” Camila said, licking her lips nervously, and although Luz had suspected something had been going on, she hadn’t really expected her mom would talk about it, and definitely not so soon. “It’s not a pretty story, but I’ll tell you, if you want to hear it.”

Seriously, Luz nodded. Sill, because she thought her mom needed it, she held her hand, happy when Camila’s expression softened.

“Six years ago,” she started, and Luz settled down to listen. “I had a patient.” Methodically, Camila recounted it all: the elderly patient, how lively she was, how she seemed to keep on living, defying all medical predictions and expectations. “We were all baffled. No matter what test we threw at her, her health defied explanation. On paper, she was very sick, but you wouldn’t think of it, looking at her. Then, one day, months after she’d been in the hospital, she called me to her bedside,” then Camila paused, eyes far away, as if trying to remember something. “She told me she would tell me her secret.”

Luz’s eyes were wide. “What was her secret?” she asked, and Camila startled a bit, as if she’d been so deep in her thoughts that she’d forgotten she had an audience.

“A plant,” she answered. “She made a very strange tea, in a very specific way, with this one plant. She told me the recipe, of course, but I was so...well, I didn’t think it was important at the time.”

“You forgot?” Luz asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice, although not very successfully.

“I forgot,” Camila sighed. “See, back then, I didn’t believe in magic. I listened to that patient because she was old, and it was the kind thing to do, but no matter how hard I’ve tried to recall the conversation, I don’t remember the details of what she told me at all.”

“Man,” Luz complained, and Camila chuckled.

“She passed away soon after that, and most of my colleagues forgot about it. An anomaly. Death must have had Her reasons after all,” she shrugged. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, forget about it. Whenever I had a patient I couldn’t help, I would remember, you know? _What if_.” Luz nodded, because it would have been the same for her. “So when I started my experiments with the plant, I didn’t expect anything to come out of it. I just wanted to prove myself wrong. If that plant was normal, if it was just that woman’s superstition, then I could forget about it.”

“It wasn’t,” Luz finished, in awe.

“It wasn’t. That plant...it shouldn’t do what it does. It has healing properties, but there’s nothing scientific about it. No unusual components, nothing. By all means it should be just a weed!”

“But that’s awesome!” Luz gushed, mind reeling with excitement. “You can help a lot of people with it! Did you manage to recreate the old woman’s tea?” However, when Camila didn’t answer, Luz deflated. “You...didn’t?”

“Luz, you must understand,” Camila began. “I tried. For six years, I tried! And I got so close! One more push and I could finally--!”

The way Camila swallowed her words was almost painful for Luz to watch. She sounded so upset, and the expression on her face was so alien that for a moment, Luz was confused. And then, she saw the way her mom’s right hand --the one that was not holding Luz’s hand-- was fisted into a ball so tight her knuckles were white, and with a wave of amazement she realized her mom was _angry_.

“I got funding at first, from the hospital,” Camila continued. “But you know, Luz, we all know, what happens to those that oppose Death.”

“But you didn’t!” Luz cried out, because of course she knew. In the Boiling Isles, Death was the only one above the Emperor, and no one would dream to ever cross her. “You only wanted to help!” Camila smiled, sadly, as another thing dawned to Luz. “We left Bonesborough in a hurry,” she said aloud, heart beating in her chest, because a lot of things were clicking into place: the way her mom was always tired, tense, always so overprotective of her.

_Afraid_ , Luz realized. Her mom had been afraid.

“Even for us, healers, there is a line we cannot cross. If science cannot save a patient, and sometimes even then, it’s because Death has claimed them. Magic...magic does not fit in the order of things. It’s disruptive. It opposes Death.”

“You were found out,” Luz guessed.

“I was never hiding, but my research was very advanced. It was logical, in retrospect. It would have come to light eventually,” Camila closed her eyes, as if pained, and Luz was glad the sun was shining over them, and hoped it would protect her mom from the bad memories as much as it had protected her. “There was a party, a week before we left. Do you remember?”

Luz nodded, startled, because of course she remembered. She’d wanted to go with her mom, and had been very disappointed that children hadn’t been allowed. “You were awarded a prize.”

“I met the Emperor. He...told me to quit my research.” Luz’s eyes widened, and out of everything her mom had told her, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this particular thing wasn’t the whole truth. She didn’t ask. Instead, she held her mom’s hand tightly, trying to convey she understood and relieved when she continued. “My lab at the hospital was destroyed. Most of my research, gone. And I had you to think about, so I tried to leave Bonesborough as silently as I could.”

In sharp contrast with the story that had been told, the silence in the garden was sweet. The sky was clear, and a light breeze made the trees and the flowers dance happily. There was a nice smell in the air-- that of grass and herbs and earth.

A safe place.

A sanctuary, Luz thought, thinking of some of the stories she’d read. The magic garden that kept evil at bay.

“It was a very brave thing you did,” Luz mumbled, thinking aloud. “Trying to find out the truth.”

There was a long silence, and then, suddenly, Camila chuckled. “Well, didn’t you do the exact same thing?”

Luz looked at her in surprise, a bit embarrassed but also incredibly delighted by her mom’s proud and loving expression.

_So this was what was missing_ , Luz thought, disjointedly. She was happy, so very happy that her mom had told her this, because it suddenly dawned on her that her mom was just a person --a person that was afraid and made mistakes and apologized-- and if that was the case then they could do their best together.

“Thanks for telling me,” Luz whispered, softly.

And indeed the garden must be magical, because then Camila hugged Luz and cried, and Luz was not ashamed that she cried as well.

* * *

The sun was already touching the horizon when Camila finally found Eda.

She had spent her day with Luz, just...talking, catching up like two friends that had finally met again after a long and painful separation. They talked about a lot of things, some of them more than once, and if tears would come to Camila’s eyes once in a while, neither of them commented on it.

However, as the day came to an end, it was impossible for Camila not to notice Luz’s restlessness. She was worried about Eda, of course, and the thought of how quickly they’d bonded didn’t fill her with jealousy anymore. She was proud of Luz, because even if she was a bit reckless --she was very young, after all--, she was also caring and determined and brave, and Camila made sure to make these things known to Luz when she noticed how starved she’d been for the reassurance.

She’d do better, she promised herself, fiercely. She was still feeling dizzy because of the trust Luz had shown her by telling her so many things about herself, her heart tender and full of emotion. And Camila could be stubborn --as stubborn as her daughter, apparently-- but she wasn’t dense enough not to recognize the second chance Luz had given her.

She’d do better. She wouldn’t need a third chance.

So that involved, of course, apologizing to Eda. Camila was still conflicted about the witch, but since it had been her who’d made the assumption Eda had proposed the deal to Luz when it had been the other way around, Camila knew she had to apologize for that, at least. For Luz’s sake if nothing else.

Hooty, after being ignored for most of the day, was only too delighted to take Camila to Eda. He jumped from statue to statue, guiding Camila deeper into the garden, and Camila felt that she should have known.

Eda was in the rose garden.

Camila steeled herself. Eda was sitting in the grass by the huge rose bush at the center of the garden. She was thoughtfully looking west, towards the sunset, and her wings were extended behind her, almost as if she’d been sunbathing before the sun had started to set.

For the first time, Camila dared to pause and finally take an objective look at Eda. Even resting and distracted as she was, there was an aura of strength around her, some wild and magnetic energy about her that Camila tried to shake off. Camila had always considered herself good at reading people, and although there was so much anyone could figure out by just looking at someone else, she had a keen sense of the pride Eda possessed, as well of whatever mysterious thing she was carefully hiding under her carefree smiles.

Camila watched in silence for a while, but it was obvious that Eda had known she was there from the start because eventually the witch tilted her head to meet Camila’s stare head on, and Camila told herself her heart skipped a beat only because staring was impolite.

Something must have shown on her face, because Eda raised an eyebrow and a small smirk touched her lips, and Camila made the executive decision of not blushing like a teenager at the sight.

“Can I help you?” Eda asked, and the teasing tilt in her voice almost made Camila turn around and walk away in embarrassment.

“I talked to Luz,” Camila said, very proud that her voice didn’t give away any of her inner turmoil. Yet, for a moment she felt foolish, wondering if her relationship with Luz would be of any interest to the witch at all.

She had her answer when Eda immediately perked up, her long bat-like ears twitching.

“Oh?” she prompted, all the teasing gone from her voice, for which Camila was incredibly grateful.

“About a lot of things. But also about the deal you two made.” Camila swallowed, because while it had been hard to talk to Luz, she’d at least felt safe, while she felt incredibly unbalanced by this woman. “I...I’m sorry I assumed you forced her into it.”

Eda laughed, a graceless, joyful sound that took Camila completely by surprise.

“She has guts, doesn’t she?” she grinned, and her fondness for Luz was so transparent that Camila finally relaxed.

“Yes, you could say that,” she conceded, and they smiled at each other for a second too long before breaking eye contact, the air suddenly tense.

“I, well, just for reference,” Eda finally said. “You both are free to go or stay as you wish. I never intended to _kidnap_ her. I kinda assumed you knew.”

Camila sighed, because _of course_ Luz had done that. “Well, I know now.”

“That’s good,” Eda said, suddenly serious. “If you have something to say and the person you want to say it to is right there beside you, then you should. You’ll be left with too many regrets otherwise.”

Camila blinked, thoughtful, and this time it was Eda who looked away, like she had given away too much.

For a long moment, they both busied themselves by watching the sunset. The sun was already sinking below the horizon, painting the sky orange and red, and Camila felt that she had never really watched a sunset until that day.

It was only when the sky was tinged purple at the edges that she dared talk again.

“Forgive me,” she said, abruptly, eyes still on the sky and not on Eda. “The last time we were here...whatever I might have thought of you, it was not my place to say what I did. Even if you are the Owl Lady of the fairy tale…”

Eda laughed again. “I am.”

Camila stopped, surprised, her mind already running away with all the implications of that admission.

“Anyway, I…” Camila tried again, pushing those thoughts away for later. “I’m sorry for calling you a traitor. I don’t know anything about it, and I only did it to be cruel.”

Eda chuckled again, and this time the sound was devoid of happiness. “Maybe I _am_ a traitor,” Eda said, looking incredibly sad.

And as if in response to Eda’s sadness, something solidified in Camila’s heart in that moment, and she took a step forward.

“Let’s start again, since our first meeting was not a good one,” she said, offering her hand to Eda. “I’m Camila. Nice to meet you.”

For a brief, fragile second, Eda looked startled. However, she recovered quickly, and in a swift movement she was on her feet, her wings relaxed and half-extended behind her.

“Eda,” she answered with a smirk, and as they shook hands, for the first time it occurred to Camila that despite everything that had happened, despite the incredibly strange situation she was in, perhaps things would be alright.

* * *

That night, Eda, King, Luz and Camila had dinner together, and for the first time the affair was lively, excited conversation going around the table in little bursts of sound. It was a bit awkward too, of course, because this was truly the first meeting of people that were determined to get along but weren’t yet sure the others would completely accept them.

So yes, there was a little awkwardness, but that was fine, and when dinner ended everyone felt happy, like they had gotten something they didn’t know they wanted.

After dinner, Eda climbed her tower, alone.

The moon was a slender smile in the sky, so although the balcony curtains were drawn, the room was dark, only lit by the ball of light still trapped under its glass dome. It shifted as Eda looked at it --white and blue and green-- looking more like a small firework, or water maybe, than a real ball of light.

Eda looked at it for a long time, lost in her thoughts.

In the end, she went to the darkest corner of the room, where, away from the windows, a giant nest served as her bed, half-hidden by burgundy silk curtains.

She had barely settled down when something snapped above the small dome --something golden and made of light that snapped in half like a tightly pulled thread. In answer to it, the glass shattered. Finally free of its constraints, the last part of the spell homed on its target, sinking into Eda’s skin as the magic fulfilled its purpose.

Eda dreamt of the Tower. Excitedly, she clinged to Lily as she jumped up and down, feeling her father’s hand on her head trying to help her settle down. Soon, however, her mother’s black wings carried her to the balcony, where she gracefully landed, immediately followed by a tall read-headed man with brown wings that matched Eda’s own.

“Mama!” Lily cried out, at the same time Eda yelled, “UNCLE!”

There was laughter, and warmth, and as the family got together again Eda thought about how much she’d missed this-- the joy, and the noise, and the belonging.

Too soon, the dream changed.

In this new place, there was nothing. Emptiness and darkness and nothingness, and Eda shuddered because she knew she’d be trapped in this place until she woke up: both her future and her biggest fear that would soon come to pass.

With a frown on her face, Eda slept, and dreamt of terrifyingly empty darkness until the sun touched the sky once more.


End file.
